No pursuit in power

No pursuit in power

Yet fighting tangled weeds

No offspring to offer

But a sower of seeds

Captured by a moment

But not shackled to it

The freedom of a fall

Therefore opting to sit

In this vast openness

In this vast openness 

A morning moon still here

The stars no longer shine

The sky is blue and clear 

Lingering and hanging

Time pressing as it goes

Transparent and sliding

Reluctantly it knows

Not there on the back step

Not there on the back step

Or windows with curtains 

Smoke rising from chimneys 

Or safety of certains

A bird’s nest in my heart

Organic and make due

Twigs of life and ribbons

Faded green and sky blue

Protecting the beauty

Protecting the beauty

Not wanting to mourn loss

Urban renewal plans

The bare wood without gloss

Pulling the clouds back or

Pushing back ocean waves

Look again and see it

Moments dirging to graves

Looking back letting go

Looking back letting go

Shoes worn in young mistakes

Permanent report cards

Are now private keepsakes

Repealing perfection 

Raised with this standard set

And failure to be so

The leeches will blood let

Taking back the shaking

Taking back the shaking

Promises formed in haste

Writing on white clouds smudge 

A storm warning foretaste 

Words fall into puddles

And sink instead of float

Fishing expedition 

On the hook what was wrote

Spinal meningitis

Spinal meningitis 

This was my beginning 

The start of hearing loss

A loose underpinning 

Never able to run

Counting steps in my walk

Not telling anyone

The totals should they talk

Wooden bridge in the wood

Wooden bridge in the wood

How I wanted to stop

To play Pooh sticks and watch

Our twigs race after drop

Our stares growing longer

Silence in slow motion

We could have but didn’t 

Though I had the notion

Just over eight minutes

Just over eight minutes

Sun’s perpetual wait

Why count the stars when some

Are already of late

In the great expansion 

Markers made get buried

The pulse and the moments

Only briefly married 

Is this for rainy days

Is this for rainy days

Or late summer twilight 

Must we wait for gray skies

Or quietness of night

Are we avoiding sun

And will we run for shade

Can we give too much and

Our colors start to fade

My book is available!

 Please consider ordering my book from any bookstore or Amazon.

I hope you enjoy it!

Winterpass

(photographs by Tiffany Napolitano)

A white sky above with

A white sky above with

A white plane passing through

Vita Sackville-West would

Most certainly approve

The brief peonies held

Their grand debutant ball

The corn is now knee high

Patient crows hold their call

For a moment the world

For a moment the world

Peels back to the sidelines

Like a Red Sea parting

Or a road through tall pines

But not for a painting

Studied and inflected

But a snapshot flashbulb

Frozen and collected

A small apple orchard

A small apple orchard

Near a clover hillside

No tourists for turmoil

Camping to gain inside

The days repeating like

Silverware and dishes

Sun imprinting time

Reflections and wishes

Feeling foolish finding

Feeling foolish finding

Inspiration from this

Granular and wood grain

The closed eyes and a kiss

This small object of yours

Pocket ephemera

Pollinating with me

In this etcetera

X-ray or dissection

X-ray or dissection 

The soul cannot be found

Not blood in our veins or

The fabrics we have gowned

It is not charisma

Or intellect and such

It is the essence of 

Self and the thoughts we touch

Unable to gift and

Unable to gift and

It cannot be a loan

A mere shift in light like

Flashing mica in stone

The loneliness knowing

The subtle change in tone

Something between the lines

Experienced not own

I moved on yet people

I moved on yet people

Are still using old maps

I have outgrown some thoughts

In my private elapse

I am growing and new

My old self now older

But you can locate me

With hotter or colder

In the valley of dreams

In the valley of dreams

Sleeping before lights out

Rumors and mere murmurs 

Like wind chimes strung about

Compassion compresses

The last echo rebound

The lullaby chorus

Now dirges to no sound

I carry them always

I carry them always

They have the weight of light

Less the weight of shadows

And the blackness of night

They swell without outlines

They are too big for sight

They are defenseless yet

Stronger than any might

Fearful of black rain on

Fearful of black rain on

Inverted tulip blooms

When wars are started by

Unjustified White Rooms

Persian carpet flowers

Covered in black mushroom

Humanity lost for

The lower cost of vroom

The intimate of us

The intimate of us

A forest of two trees

The youth and the weathered

The new wood and old these

The Braille in our palms that

We punch new every day

The quick glance of the eyes

That can speak without say

Slowly the unravel

Slowly the unravel

How has the evening come

The sun was above us

Now on horizon plumbed

How was your day today

Reveries in focus

Tasks handled better than

When the sun had woke us

From feather to cement

From feather to cement 

Everyday a downpour 

Our sense of touch is worn

No want of feeling more

Numb to the madness, did

You know numb has a “b”

The dumb corp dumbing for

The anniversary

An undeclared artist

An undeclared artist

These grasses are my lawn

The privacy of prayer

Without deities spawn

My scarecrows are failing

Those intelligent crows

Or any wildlife that

Stays untamed in their throws

Somewhere the imagine

Somewhere the imagine

Is beyond math and sky

The complexities of

Heart accept without why

And the World with its wide

Spins without sound in grace

And the collective sum

Is not equation base

My book is available!

Please consider ordering my book from any bookstore or Amazon.

I hope you enjoy it!

Winterpass

(photographs by Tiffany Napolitano)

The hull sits on dark clouds

The hull sits on dark clouds

George Floyd an albatross

The wind has stopped blowing

The Stars and Stripes now Cross

Thoughts are everywhere yet

There’s not a drop of think

If the earth were flat then

Clearly we’re on the brink

Stevie Smith in my dreams

Stevie Smith in my dreams

He’s in the neighbor’s yard

He always comes when called

He’s out there standing guard

No questions or logic 

But this is not our home

I call and collect him

And together we roam

The burden of Babel

The burden of Babel 

Walden’s Pond with wi-fi

The doves are retreating

Opinions clog the sky

The empty playground where

Thoughts rise up, stand or fall

Our time was wrapped in us

And not a World at all

I cannot nor will be

I cannot nor will be

Yesterday is past tense

The bonsai battle fought

And the fabled white fence

The lotus shoes kicked off

No longer hosting vines

Not framed like farmlands or

Defined by posted signs

When the time stalled but the

When the time stalled but the 

Rain continued to fall 

Our emotions had found

No words left in the brawl

Hearts abandoned music

Each note circled the drain

We were washed up, left with

Our silence to explain

Lost myself within me

Lost myself within me

Too much color in paints

A muddy murky mess

Of my endless complaints

Fearing the dark Rothko

Evergreen branches pits

Yet always a lighthouse 

An Overwhelm light hits

Harder to have future

Harder to have future

Uncertainty about 

The inhumanity 

Of white Christian devout

If He died for their sins

He would not resurrect 

The wrongs so heavy no

Forgiveness could correct

Sadness that cannot seep

Sadness that cannot seep

A couch against the wall

For dreamers not asleep

Waiting for morning call

And in the hard repeat

A happiness appears

A rock without defeat

That melancholy fears

Looking for the patterns

Looking for the patterns

The why here and why now

The saturated Life

The stagnant meets the plow

And in the Overwhelm

Sorrow mingles with mirth

The fossils and the fawn

The relinquished and birth

A fierce independence

A fierce independence 

In secrecy or bloom

A white cloud in darkness

Or a parading plume

No more a dull pencil

I sign and underline

Wrong when wrong, not knowing 

Or simple change of mind

Old and still dreaming of

Old and still dreaming of

An abstract come to life

The grace of a soft edge

Left by a pallet knife 

A feeling in freedom

Love found in the knowing

There is more to being

And never stop growing 

Refusing to let go

Refusing to let go

Generation stampede

Beauty in the rubble

Excavation indeed

A moving train gesture

A spiral in small glance

The movement of mother

Greatness in moment, dance

Far from the bright pastels

Far from the bright pastels 

Beneath where willows grow

A river runs beneath

Fed by the melting snow

Feelings without fountain 

With no geyser or gush

In the dark, white water

That babbles in a hush

The surprise fallen tree

The surprise fallen tree 

Lying here now broken 

A last wave goodbye but

Our feelings unspoken

On roads that never end

At least that’s how we felt

The World's random shuffle

And our two jokers dealt

A slice of Memphis pie

A slice of Memphis pie

Confederate placemat

Christians defending what

He would throw sandals at

Supreme Court, Supreme God

Where do you truly stand

On professed Judgment Day

Your shit will hit the fan

Under a yellowwood

Under a yellowwood 

A single boat adrift

Real as a reflection

The memory the gift

The orphan of our love

In the ripples of grief

Continuous heartbeat

Of together too brief

Life at a window sill

Life at a window sill

Curiosity friend

Where answers are dancers

And questions never end

What are you feeling now

Did happiness garden

Will these seedlings survive

In the outdoors harden

These layers of living

These layers of living

Seasonal but still true 

In this fertile of green

Both parts yellow and blue

Giving then giving more

But trees often lose limbs

It comes as no surprise 

Sometimes it comes from trims

Again, it is not love

Again, it is not love

Just some sad beginning 

Of a dying beautiful 

Pausing constant spinning 

Behind our sets of eyes

Consequences or not

No longer on point and

Far from my centered spot

So long and then longer

So long and then longer

A Friday will follow

Then a week and decades

Centuries will swallow

Today not feeling well

Blue skies grow cloudy gray

This is an afternoon

On another Sunday

Songs pulled up like bedsheets

Songs pulled up like bedsheets

Dreams with bright flags waving

Arriving end of day

History engraving

Hologram emotions

Together filling space

Three dimensional moon

Existence full of grace

Happy as sycamore

Happy as sycamore

Resilient to weather

Shedding from a life lived

Tough grain locked together

A ripening fruit that

Softens in the winter

Good shelter for others 

And not prone to splinter

I swallowed a forest

I swallowed a forest

An ocean in my eyes

In a scarf of gray clouds

And a hat of blue skies

I waited for twilight 

Sundial in my hand

Useless without shadow

Tally marking the And

Crossing the park and road

Crossing the park and road

And into the doorway

Car headlights like comets

Cross the ceiling two-way

A streetlight cast shadows

Through the windows and door

Angular Mondrians

Bend from walls to the floor

Yellowwood chandeliers

Yellowwood chandeliers 

And soon the eighth of May

Two decades and a half

May as well be today

The love tide came in and

It never went back out

I am here in the flood

That will never go drought

Catapulting forward

Catapulting forward

So much progress ahead

Making realizations

Beneath the dreams embed

The future is present

Make the moment exist

Near as the next heartbeat 

Far as the pulsing wrist

Goodbyes after grafting

Goodbyes after grafting

The original tree

Awaits the returning

To the roots of the me

I bloomed in your presence 

Pollinated by bee

The fruit forming is a

Culmination of we

Raindrops like falling hearts

Raindrops like falling hearts

Innocent people die

Fragile ornaments break

Ballistic missiles fly

Might is not always right

Some invest in the war

At the risk of losses

Not in money but your

Art needs but a small space

Art needs but a small space

A dibble in the mind

A homestead garden and

A randomness streamlined

Pages from our own book

Scattered and unnumbered 

Glances and World glimpses

Refusing the slumbered 

Sensing the sediment

Sensing the sediment 

The fossil being made

A sighing setting sun

The brush strokes of the shade

White flowers in the lawn

An old, fat Buckeye tree 

Loud birds in hiding and

Togetherness of three

The horizon in mist

The horizon in mist

Waves crashing far from shore

Seagulls in the sand bar

Eagles in search for more

Old flowers still budding

Birds building nests again

The passing passages

Of time and here and when

A conch shell lullaby

A conch shell lullaby

Spring sunshine is staring

Together in moments

Creating and sharing

Time is unraveling

Memories being made

In Wolf Kahn scrub trees that

Brighten themselves in shade

Blue above and below

Blue above and below

Waves wrinkle and press out

No need to be dreaming

With great beauty about

The world is releasing

As the moon kneads the sea

Happiness is breathing

With a rock and some tree

Happy and all is here

Happy and all is here

Rainstorms in NYC

Lost whiskers of Stevie

You and me and our we

Spades hitting random bricks

A Hewitt’s Double’s blooms

Porcelain Teacup walls 

Alive in so few rooms

Habe ein Déjà vu

Habe ein Déjà vu

We terrorize our own

Christians demonizing

And casting the first stone

Concentration camps and

Masked men masking their crimes

Children being hurt by

Nazis in modern times

Without world or others

Without world or others

No parents or rearing

What am I all alone

In essence of nearing

Melancholy molten

The rising climb of me

Liquid into solid

Changing when I need be

Benevolence bounty

Benevolence bounty

Keeping your own reward

Breaking the boundaries 

With a pushpin dartboard 

Nothing of love, nothing

Just a much needed chair

When I roped off my seat

A deadly empty stare

In a lull between hills

In a lull between hills

Gas station lights humming

We found our happiness 

Intact in the numbing

Two moths realigning

Reversing their propel

Choosing new directions

Beginning with repel

Forever ends today

Forever ends today 

So many of my days

Blank canvases again

My own parting of ways

Racing to get ahead

Did not make better time

Here I am standing still

With gesso as my prime

Curiosity has

Curiosity has

Dirt underneath its nails

The inquisitive peak

The ask beyond the rails

The artist and process

Inspirational spark

Imagination that

Illuminates the dark

Days of polka and fugue

Days of polka and fugue

Moonlight Sonata yearn

The tug of war ropes that

Blister, rip through and burn

Remember apple mulch

We spread on tree acres

Our corner of the world

Where we were caretakers 

Too many broken things

Too many broken things

Don’t lose a drop of milk

No ripples in water

Like tousled yards of silk

Seeking new not repair

Another cornerstone 

Rugs like Rocky Mountains

Life in precipice zone

Too many canals dug

Too many canals dug

Duty and the bent head

Pages written bluster

Majority unread

Hourglasses are making

Sand art of our days whence

Gravity pulling grains

As displaced air assents

My prized possession is

My prized possession is

Rooted deep in my heart

It is the pi of love

Forever from the start

It thrives in light or shade

Everyday a new shoot

It arches high and low

Both net and parachute

Closer to privilege

Closer to privilege 

Having little support

Allowing and mixing

My own clay in the thwart

Growth in frontiers without

Fences or rails and posts

By dressing my own wounds 

And confronting all ghosts

The universe cycles

The universe cycles

From birth to death to birth

All is temporary 

Our sun and planet Earth

We funnel in and then

Funnel out again new

The black holes and red dots

Each a probable clue

In some random future

In some random future

An accidental turn

We may come face to face

The stagnant and the learn

Your opinions unchanged

You may say they’re unmatched

I have left the nest while

You’re eggs are still unhatched

Blustering winds are here

Blustering winds are here

Magnolias too soon

The late days of winter

The occasional June

Soldiers of Vietnam

Bouchard on my wrist cuff

We say never forget

Not enough is enough

Our dreams blow across these

Our dreams blow across these

Zen-less gardens unraked 

They can be planted here

Regardless of mistake

Wise children learn to cope

We bloom in the hardest

Aloe to ourselves when

We are Avant-gardist

The snow shovel now rake

The snow shovel now rake

Last year’s leaves still linger

Giving Spring a handshake

Counting change, each finger

Time again moves quickly

The trotting robin’s urge

Gathering the fragments

Without sensing the purge

Somewhere north of Canal

Somewhere north of Canal

Before the tourists creep

Out from their hotels to

Parade and purchase cheap

In front of three traders

Elbowing holding styles

To their joy and laughter

I gave them each free smiles

Arrived and still longing

Arrived and still longing

Living in the almost

Unquenched by the here and

A thirst for the utmost 

Now happy in rural

The butterfly flight path

Far from sidewalks, the loom

And the abacus math

Our brief flowers and stems

Our brief flowers and stems

Hand printed hieroglyphs

Spores of our present breath

Before stone monoliths

Fruition or rhizomes 

Solitary or clump

The vertical forest

To fallen tree and stump

Morning left the fog here

Morning left the fog here

I watch it as it moves

Across rigid skylines

And building window grooves

Remember our bright day

I’m unwrapping this gift

To weather this weather

Until the fog has lift

Grandiose helium

Grandiose helium

Your need to touch the sky

The ego inflated

Draws in the passerby 

Here in the open air

On feet not meant to fly

Your helium balloon

Grows smaller to my eye 

Curiosity strikes

Curiosity strikes

Exploration fish nets

Unknowns becoming known 

From the action of let’s

Why’s and wise are in chord

Mysteries we can solve

Your ocean, my ocean

One water will evolve

From concentric to skew

From concentric to skew

The kudzu vine ripped out

The sunlight again shines

The leaves about to sprout

Years under the carpet

Eggshells turned to powder

From valley to alpine

Our shout is now louder

A painting without red

A painting without red

At the end of the hall

An intimate portrait

Every detail a sprawl

With two blue hands holding

A green ginkgo bouquet 

Ancient before yellow

Fossils in pending clay

Here behind the pylons

Here behind the pylons

Detours and caution tape

Under construction with

Pitfalls and rough landscape

Surveillance cameras

Private property signs

Walden Pond armory

Empathetic confines

Envelopes and letters

Envelopes and letters

Loose sheets of thoughts and blank

Given in the darkness

Written on the edge plank

Pressed flowers in these words

So travel is not lost

And do not fall in love

With clouds at any cost

Time pinched between fingers

Time pinched between fingers

A winter fog sleep walks

Trapped in a photograph

Of last season’s cornstalks 

All of the decades are

Compressed in decisions 

Children’s books to memoirs 

Missteps and precisions

The chosen path is not

The chosen path is not

Wide and now seems too short

The mother and father

And their late life abort

Knowing what I know now

The effort without fruit

The impossible love

No matter the pursuit

Rejecting recollect

Rejecting recollect

Not fearing present tense

Or fresh flashing forward

Not the hoarding of whence

Discovery default

Small buttons of wonders

Sharing of perspectives 

Humor at our blunders

Random harpsichord keys

Random harpsichord keys

The softness of the rain

Watercolor Rothko

Is washing the terrain

Daylight soon without sun

The traffic picking up

Driving through saucers and

Dodging the pothole cup

Letting go of the sun

Letting go of the sun

The moon shortly after

A day and then distance

No roof and no rafter

No matter of pacing

Be it bull or ursus 

The grave plot reflecting

Us scratching the surface

I am still here my friend

I am still here my friend 

We were more than just when

I listen to your dreams

With hope at each “and then”

Exchanging thoughts and heart

The discipline fitness

Compassion and courage 

Companionship witness

Captured in a mid flight

Captured in a mid flight 

Piloting without rank

Each bow on my kite tail

Untied until it sank 

Between recoveries

My boundaries were found

No pulling on my heart 

Strings and standing my ground

Caught in a winter storm

Caught in a winter storm

An innocent mistake

A naked tree and spruce

Stood on the circle lake

The time too tense to pause

Self cuddled and hurried

Picturing the pathway

When it only flurried

When they take our Lemon

When they take our Lemon

We will make lemonade 

When they are bad we will

Be Good and not afraid

And when they kill Pretti

And still show no pity

Get Border Control and

ICE out of our city

Shielding not shuttering

Shielding not shuttering

Standing ground without hide

Here are my positions

Should our two worlds collide 

Battles in the commons

And neighborhoods at war

Justice without jury

The bully is done for

Highlighted by twilight

Highlighted by twilight

Curbs of snow and ice stretch

From street block to street block

Sidewalk paths merely etch

Toledo railroad tracks

Like non-ending verses

Without a bend in sight

My journey diverses 

The night on my shoulders

The night on my shoulders

More and more sensing time

The changes in weather

The subtle and sublime

The clock in Grand Central

Beneath a starry dome

The constant reminder

We are already home

The religious bully

The religious bully

Caught up in their own lies

Magdalene was not stoned

Seven demons demise

How we love a story

Believe and not get burnt

Eternity is yours

If eternity weren’t 

Coming into my own

Coming into my own

The Queen of the Andes

Evolving and growing

Years, I understand these

Dream with me if you can

Finally standing tall

With no scent to attract 

Just to spire and not fall

A day without surprise

A day without surprise

Just another sunrise

No sharpening of wise

A day I must refuse

 

Discoveries ahead

The morning light is spread

Enlightenment spearhead

With living as the muse

Anticipating the

Anticipating the

Goodbye after hello

Before the afternoon

And the moonlit halo

Love encompasses both

Happiness and sadness 

Us sharing space then not

From Holi to blackness

Progress still being made

Progress still being made

Plateaus bring preparedness

And greater clarity 

A stoic declaredness

Frog on a lily pad

The earthworm in the rain

The here to horizon

The elevated plane

Benevolence wilting

Benevolence wilting

The act of drying tears

Beyond the emojis 

Eliminating fears

Creating boogeymen

The wanton and unwant 

And good citizens are

Deemed terrorists to taunt

Disruption in the plan

Disruption in the plan

With steps out of sequence 

Goals eclipsing the wants

Expressed in great frequence

Rarely seeing and yet

Sensing the becoming

Hear the latch on the gate

Threshold steps incoming 

Still holding souvenirs

Still holding souvenirs 

Awakening insights

Or memory markers

Park benches or air flights

Times the way they were and

Sharing steps in the miles

That one clover, that look

Still here in all the whiles 

Leaving a safe harbor

Leaving a safe harbor 

Curiosity waits

Strange in the familiar

And the flooding of straits 

A truck shaking dumpsters

Stonehenge dominoes fall

A thought in moon phases

Above China’s Great Wall 

Two plus two equals five

Two plus two equals five

Do not believe your eyes

Barbarism is where

Decency goes and dies

Wanting to cause harm and

Where freedom for the few

Is determined by force

Don’t tread on me snafu

So many single quotes

So many single quotes

Heads bent and looking down

Heavy sunflowers that

No longer turn around

Still running errands or

Merely walking to say

I am alive and here

Ask them how is their day

Into the gradient

Into the gradient

Japanese cherry blooms

The pink skies at night that

Paint our west facing rooms

Powdered at first as in

Monet’s Lavacourt brush 

Then finishing with an

English cheek in a blush

Many pages left blank

Many pages left blank

Yesterday’s clouds are gone

To know it matters in

The moment it is drawn

Useless in the future

So charming in the past

Even in the staring

Stillness is moving fast

Reaching without touching

Reaching without touching

Brokenhearted retreat

Offers of me, of us

My accepting defeat

But what is the winning

It’s not a tapestry

It’s seeing I to eye

Praising your majesty 

Grow far from the forest

Grow far from the forest

It is never too late

Too find the spherical 

Saucer or charger plate

The uncaged bird still sings

How sweeter is the song

Do not let limbs enter

Give yourself space and strong

The individual

The individual 

And yet we cluster stars

The moon a reminder

And the North Star and Mars

And the wishes we make

Depending on their size

Are scooped up by dippers

Safeguarded in the skies

Sunlight in cold weather

Sunlight in cold weather

Painting with paler hands

Shadows in twilight blue

Slow gravity of sands

Visiting when it can

Each time staying longer

The Rite of Spring music

Only growing stronger

Reams of paper tigers

Reams of paper tigers

More and more will persist 

The machine being built

To combat the resist

This is target practice 

Freedom fighters absurd 

Attacking the actions

The essence of the word

A tsunami warning

A tsunami warning

Children are on the beach

The heart swells with the World

That the arms cannot reach

Escalating power

It is right to be wrong

Is our identity 

Hardness to get along

Inside the twirling skirt

Inside the twirling skirt

The centrifugal force 

The poor and the huddled

Pushed hard to the hem course

Seven deadly sins and

Earthly Garden Delights 

Metropolis again

The top office incites

The sun cannot witness

The sun cannot witness

The moon does not take note

The deaths in Chicago

And up in Minnesote 

And do not forget the

Tragedies to fam’ly

Disappearing mothers

And fathers, goddamnly 

The richness and story

The richness and story

The orchids of color

To say you can’t see it

Demotes them to duller

Lovely differences

Can you not sense the blue

When you cannot see them

And are just looking through 

A hiking trail of thoughts

A hiking trail of thoughts

My heart begins to burst 

The joy and sadness of

A better world or worst

The past fails to haunt us

The great Art that remains

Tides of Hope in chorus

Refrains, refrains, refrains

A dead star not quasar

A dead star not quasar

Disappointment and such

How can two sips from the

Same cup vary so much

The expectations felt

The reality came

Two faces looking down

One in shock, one in shame

Three point five percent rule

Three point five percent rule

We are here and fighting 

Peaceful gatherings when

Government’s inciting

Telling us laws that we

Must obey with their heils

Well if that’s the case then

Release the Epstein files

From here it is not far

From here it is not far

Like sensing the ocean

All this understanding 

Mere trifle and notion

And who will take me there

Some old familiar song

Our shadows on the beach

Stretch out but are not long

I have not forgotten

I have not forgotten 

We shared a love and do

Nothing taken but hearts

Given and added to

No needs or wants asking

A happiness haiku

Such a lovely life us

My shoulder home to you

Two parallel plateaus

Two parallel plateaus 

One higher kitchen shelf

Where hopes and dreams display 

Above the daily self

The good china waiting

Let us sit and beside

Pull ourselves up and up

So we can say we tried

Quiet as light itself

Quiet as light itself 

Quiet as time giving

Or taking each moment

Conscious to us living

The shushing of present

The suffocated past

Quiet as sight itself

The foreground or the vast

Snowdrifts at the front door

Snowdrifts at the front door

Asian hills frost the panes

A winter zen summons 

Cornstalk stems row the plains

Clouds like parked railway cars

A Siberian line

A silver twilight that’s 

Tarnished and will not shine

We are here as our bulbs

We are here as our bulbs

Dig deeper in the ground

Our stems getting smaller

Our blooms less upward bound

Then years of only leaves

Even water and feed

May not keep us safe from

Mistaken for a weed