The full moon has rolled west
out of view, its light
reduced to a trickle
through the black frame.
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Slip Slidin’ Away
Still humming, smiling, finally knowing where I am.
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Runny Birds
Sanderlings are pitching like rafts
ignoring the line of surf-sorted shells
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Here Try Some of This Ointment
Imagine life where everyone pitches in with a mix of chores and creative leisure. One barely sees this balance from today’s towers of ranking prey.
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READ ALL ABOUT IT! 1999
I’m a Bruce Lee of Christmas book-wrapping
just slaying everything I’m handed.
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Charging up our Song
Spirit cracked open
my mumblypeg mind with
heart-to-heart conversation.
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The Last of Us to Look Back
You pull hard enough and you can break
a connection a lot of times.
How many hundreds of miles were we marched
down our Trail of Tears before some of
those connections to our corn snapped?
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Mornings Like These
blue autumnal frosts lace the arbors like a silhouette
frozen brambles litter the forest floor
stillness roams out from under the canopy
what was hidden gives way to a season of knowing
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Holding Hands in Cannon Beach
Can coastal ghosts take
control of boards that
meet on ancestral strands?
Possession risks captivity.
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Three Poems and a Mountain
Here, in a nook of the trembling landscape
where hills push up and back, away from
the crying ocean whose breath is wind,
She looks to her older Rocky cousins.
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