Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Now is the time

and I
have been dry
seeds rattling
for so long.
Do seeds
to be
when the
fruit ripens?

Do not
forget what is
always. Although
hidden in the
dark cool center
a new livingness
waits to be

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

a stone's frugal life

I ogle stones
in a bed of sand
through the veil of a clear lake


one speckled stone catches my eye .
my hand reaches
through distortions
for its heart


one stone heart
in my palm
turns my hand to sand


it is thus
the hammer beats us
back together


in the night
I hear the strokes
in my blood

sand water sand water sand

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

With every breath

I stand perfect, arrogant with life
in this field, refusing to choose which
is more, the golden hills of rudbeckia
tumbling after one another,
Canada thistle foaming around
spindles of Timothy grass. Not even
doilies of Queen Anne’s Lace,
a neck above the rest, court my favor,
nor I theirs.
We are all winners
or there are none. Bee. Moth.
Hawk. Vole. Sky over. Sun falling. We
proudly pose until the next rising.