Thursday, May 21, 2009


I don't care more
than you care,
I doubt my lungs
take more in,
I'm a feather in the middle
that completes a wing,
a blueberry
balancing on butter just so,
if there's a diamond
abandoned in your mother's drawer,
a key to an office
long closed,
then I'm the right age
for coffee on the porch,
I'll remember books
and gospels long overdue,
if you get a phone call
that returns
and returns to a swing in a tree,
I'll push, do a duck under
and run.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Four Strides

Peas tall as rain,
winged flowers strung to a pole,
careful to plant boots
between ankle deep beans,
I snap pods for salad.

The whole patch is four strides
by ten, just enough mud
to stain fingernails
and knees. Late lettuce
bolted since the storm I hoped
would drown the mole.

No flaming sword at the gate
but it is a bit of Eden,
for beginners.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009


Feet on the floor,
one day the cold wood
could shock the heart,
the daily miracle of knees

Aspirin, magnesium, exercise, even
scripture, all cautions;
an ant wrestling crumbs
across a mountain of cake,
the arterial paths of stars,
the pulse of the moon.

We make our way, 
grunting turtles in the sand.
If it were just magnets and light,
this thing of mornings from night,
we'd not bother with letters or names,
or footnotes to the intelligent