All posts in Poems

  The calls came late in the evening and very early morning An old friend gone, and then another Half a continent apart Joined only by memories Echoes of music and laughter Terry, my first friend in second grade Holding hands in the playground Exploring the mysteries of WLA on bikes; Bill singing folk tunes…

Somehow it has all come down to this Long dog walks in the mornings The garden in early light Memories that rise and fall like June fog along the coast A finch at the feeder, now two An unknown rustling in the nearby grass Earth running through fingers as I engage the hopeful art of…

Swift things are beautiful: A dog along the surf, A growing child (all too) Springtime, in its budding and flowering And sudden storms, And childhood (did I say childhood?), And a year in my life these years. Slow things are beautiful: Sunday mornings Long morning walks, Eventual happiness and self-acceptance, The way that the heart…

No longer fierce nor proud Or swaying over some sentimental song Your long labors behind you now The dreams, the shifts, the hours Could not help you express your truths Even to those who loved you. Speak to me now as you couldn’t then No longer seeking your approval But wishing it still Tell me…

Long dog walks in the mornings The garden in early light Memories that rise and fall like June fog along the coast A finch at the feeder, now two An unknown rustling in the nearby grass Earth running through fingers as I engage the hopeful art of planting A circling red-tail casting its shadow on…

My father did not speak to me Or if he did I could not hear him. He was not silent, but he did not readily share What it was to be a man. Except this: “When you look in the mirror to shave, Always live your life So you can look yourself in the eye.”…

And in the embers of 2014 lies an old friend whom I can’t stop missing, a cousin who touched lives, a friend who lived life fully, My mother’s 100th birthday had she lasted, And a risky dance with Barcelona. All grist for the mill, dust in the corners of this room, Swept now, in this…

          He aspired to architecture Because he loved the structure of things But instead became a butcher Carving life down to gristle and bone.   She had no choice but to pursue Interior design For every room she entered Was transformed.  

    There is a river that flows out of the wilderness Cut deep through rock cliff Graveled broadly from the shore And I long to stand in it To wade and cast my line and know that my life is complete Cast in the comfort of the loves that I have known In those…