Category: nature
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Dreaming in a time of covid
On the deck of our house a grove of ancient oaks drifted overhead Years ago, a tornado gathered them up and carried them away into the sky Trees loved the sky and the sky loved the trees they fed one another air Among the trees a large white farmhouse drifted like a cloud Last night,…
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haiku after rain
soft sings high grass bird gentle wind shakes wet from trees last night’s rain falls twice 7-30-20
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Birds like sticks of dynamite
birds like sticks of dynamite circle a ship in the bay while he plants fruit trees amongst gallows on the hill birds return to roost as ship sails north into the sea sweet juice lingers on lips drips upon their chins 7-28-20
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surrender
for a moment in time a drop of dew hung swelled and quivered in sun vibrated yellow, orange and red blue and green released its grip on a leaf surrendered its form to the pull of earth 7-26-20
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Light rain
You lie down to rest close blinds to darken the room but still light leaks in Puddles on cheeks of closed eyes pull a sheet over your head protection from light rain 7-22-20
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poem for a friend
On a log pile by a fire pit On a log with lichen clings a lone cicada husk Split in the back for you to flee A life that’s grown too small you flee into green canopy And sing incessantly to be found To be loved before a change of seasons 7-20-20
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Two plus two plus two plus two
Dark shadow with golden legs Early morning sun illuminates on screen Normally, I see you in debris along the fence Or on a rotting stump among the weeds What brings you to my porch to perch in soft young light? I have nothing to feed you, but I marvel at your agility How you coordinate…
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Dragonfly
Stopping to almost perch on grass you followed for two blocks Steering your four winged bi-plane in and out of my path Are you bringing good fortune what are you trying to say? Black white laced wings in late afternoon sun I stopped and offered a finger you came close and flew away 7-16-20
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Drone
Daytime cicadas drone about mating in this heat; they keep on droning, so I assume it’s too damn hot to procreate, even in the shade. If they had studied hard for seventeen years and not slept in and skipped class, we would only hear the drone of tiny HVAC units in the trees. 7-14-20
My husband's poetry 