rushing, wildly running
through narrowing gorge,
plunging ever away
from what it was –

calm pond
silent spring slipping
time’s bond –

descending cliffs
flowing, always flowing
gathering all the waters of the west

to become the Colorodo –

carver of canyons,
life giver, death dealer
river of earth.

(8 October 2015)


They Are Strangers Here


Seagulls circle high,
In the heavy October sky

wide, white wings
nudging the dull air

riding gyres
past the waving crest
of our highest redwood.

They are strangers here.

They’ll find no shallows to fish
no mussels to lift
above the concrete wharf,
drop and crush
and delicately dissect
still living white flesh.

They must be lost.

Here they’ll find no flying sail
no schooner driving into
wintery winds. They’ll have
no rising bow here
to amend their errant way.

And yet, for now, they’ll stay,

Graces of light
In the gray gloom
of this cold autumn

(27 Oct. 2010)




When you left us
I saw how the clouds parted,
rent curtains,
as you cleared earth’s
drossy smear,
and passed into a heaven
bright beyond
my wildest imagining.

Bereft, fearful, we
shut tight the door
against wolves’ howling
and waited for you
to keep your promise.

At first it was a whisper,
the sea-ward wind
prying loose our
weak walls,

but soon the song rose, until
its power overwhelmed us
with chords of faith,
and, afire at last,
we spoke!

Evening Star Rising


Evening star rising

into day’s fading sky,

alone, serene,

and wondrously bright,

surpassing dark hills

to cerulean night.

(7 May 2012)

Closer to the Edge


closer to the edge
where day and night merge,
marriage of land and sky
not one thing or
the other;

that’s where faith hides —
blushing bride, wayward child
waiting to be found
and taken

(15 May 2015)

At the Bird-feeder


Rushing, pushing
the sparrows shove;

pulsing wings
beating the air,
all for a bounty
of unexpected feed!

When drops two doves.

Wings folded,
they plaintively call;

the seed of plenty
gently falls.

(9 May 2015)