being been gone

as they should be
wakes are
quiet drunkenness
mournfully
smiling at everything
you were and
pointless jokes you told

odd

sun sets leaving
a blank white sky
at zenith begins
the pales night sky

but clouds zip by
without a sigh

im tired

night river

moonbeams lace across the river
lo hides me in blue moon shadows

kite

the broad red tailed hawk
slips to the end of my string
launched from a slick red knoll
glad i know the real thing
is not as big as he
envy his view i do

gone

like moisture laden on a leaf
names drip from their slender tips
falling into hasty creeks wandering
their splash unnoticed among the slurry
save their melodious sound in my plucked heart

good night

the stars are as i knew
rebelling in the night
their uprisings glean

striking clouds walk between

felt

how far away must far away be
anywhere without you
you without me

cat

headlights catch him drinking at my space
twice contemplating me im told
he walked away each time on
low crouching tippy toes
beautifully and long

elevation

i have altitude today
tomorrow i carry but
a set of pins n note book
and a single brush
water no lunch
im tired

barriers

fences in shaman country
walking the streets admiring
the division of the parcels of land
yours from theirs and theirs from mine

all low just for show
barriers of all manner

open work and filigree or wooden carved
rusty or red and blue and purple
bars and barbed wire and slats
to this place each so unique

return to me oh wisdom

return to me
my days of calm
when rivers flowed
gently and wise
i miss you
and you

beau and bear

the last to be painted are eyes
and these level grey ones look
at me as if i were stealing his soul
and his brown teddy bear to boot
were they thirty years older i might

never the same

for days swirling mocha
now straight up dark black
sunday back to my green perhaps
the rivers never runs the same in spring

wintry spring

stepping from the door in song
whiffs of honeysuckle unwrap my senses
united with vagabond snow greet me
my peace brings burning shame as
a chorus of war drums fill the air

portrait

with colour
précis her charm
smiling with her teeth
pinafore bows and buttons
everything still but finger tips
light and shadow crisp and bright
let me summarize her flaxen flow of curls
oh to be golden four again with life stretched clean

easter gift

tightly rolled
each napkin contains
host card with a single #
somewhere a matched gift
mine a petit point rabbit pillow
stitched in black and white with green
what a surprise happy and delightfully keen

you

the sun warms their face
and bravery burns in their heart
just to care for you

we think of you

peaceful low below the wind
the river runs as always
the cat tails sway gently
spring seems every where
tears mixed with lilies and grass
as all the youth are away at wars
absent warriors persist sealed in thoughts

sunday lunch

easter feast invitation by my host
sends me scouring the shops for attire
sales lady said if its different ya want
then wear what you wore yesterday
blushing i select a lacy white shirt to
tuck into my mums gabardine jodhpurs
who would bother noticing me anyway

thoughts

walking the river bank
your eyes are the night sky
rustling grass your poems resist
lapping water my pleasure
and your quiet scoldings
breeze is my wondering
what brings you joy

where are you

i swear i heard you cry
in that crackly little boy voice
you said you couldnt take it any more
and i saw your face unknown to me
freckles with blonde brown hair and eyes
i am awake now holding my breath
tell me again as i cry too

illegals

from our immigration system inception
in late 1780s congress lifts its
restrictions giving amnesty
every twenty years or so

rain or shine war or no
we will have lost our light
when they stop wanting to arrive

drawing

late for the supper line
i sit in the patio
sketching those later than i
waiting for artichoke
and crisp wine

dream by the river

my lips brush your lips
i breath your breathe
not in a kiss but
as the mist
so lightly
with secret whisperings
in one ear then the other

technique

a bank of sheep with lambs in tow
passes along my road today
silly frilly dog moving low
keeps them on their way
their dust hangs in the air

mornings

slowly moves away the shadows from the bluff
the lingering cold thawing from my ink of colours
sun tans my skin and bringing gleam to my brow
is there no happy medium in the huge desert red

you

like a straw
ice capsulates
the waterfall

instead with

reclamation
concentration
i sketch your face

new friend

after much to do with flame and perking
coffee cups in hand
breakfast invites grey jay her self
stays devouring lunch as well
an omen good im considering
pray leave me a feather