modern?

once pinned to the shoulder right
flowers showed a girl's intent
now wearing boyfriend’s
levis 501 is in

winter

sun jumped the river
and sat the opposing mountain
frowning at the cold

sadly so

melancholy wraps me
like morning’s early breeze
like a horizon with no mountains
like a sky without you

you

rain dissolves
the wave froth before it slips up the bank
reeling back into the underworld
like you

yellow

hello full moon
wishing you well
at new moon time

mornings

a spirit kindly touches my face
offering a kiss

accepting now i could

day

lavender pulls up the sun
flaming the cliffs persimmon
yet none waken to herald
the battles of the night

asking who won

fruition

as welsh drunkards mourning
sweet passages from the past
nothing will sober more
than drunken tuesday

colour

like peacock feather
clouds unfurl in twilight
as iridescent dots of snow fall

will you?

i go every year to decompress
to smell the cold to jar the last rays of sun
to wake to creaking trees to fall asleep to wind
to make sense of migrant birds and slumbering soil
to grasp it all before others arrive

and so on....

teutonic utilitarian aryan indo european iranian
the world twirls round again

partly mine

half hidden moon
burns bright
and dark
split in the middle
like all of life’s little mysteries

blustery storm

wide winged crow
zigzagged my path
so low stirring the air
wide winged crow

crisscrossed dare

whisper i hear

snow breeze
lifts a bee
from tangled hair

a secret did he tell?

true

crow cries loss of jingoist brings
compatriot
but why if all is lost i wonder
and never returns you?

now

your whispers in my ear just now
asked how i felt
without your words
like you without mine i suppose
dread and near tears

soft sound of nothingness

lazy clouds droop to the ground
mingling with brown earth’s
yellow leaves turned and
wet snow

autumn

like a lacy slip snow covers the ground daintily
exposing a yellow leaf turned here and there

autumm

moon drifts south across the bluffs
leaving crispness in the air as it goes

garden's end

a new thrill
is the bloom of a dill
fragrance beauty yellow
fills each room

again

your thoughts of me turn my heart and head
left wondering what thing brought about
your thinking of me quietly

memory

crisp wind swirls my hair
pulling thoughts of you
from the memory
of the yellow moon era

seeking

full moon bright stares at me
empty shell looks back
thinking thoughts of you

you

my breathe hesitates
as thoughts of you float by
yesterday now and always

late

sly fox watches moon sitting high in the sky
as golden morning lays long shadows

double dog dare ya dance

haloed goslings
tap their toes
peering at the creek oh so cold

probably so

perched heron
at my side
complains
i sit his rock says he

unoccupied

part of my heart
languishes
like the evening moon
not yet full

starting over

we had lovely evening rains that washed away
the dirty snow leaving us all clean

reaching

i know you are on to me
grasping still i love thee
for no reasons but
to touch the things you cannot feel

vapors

isolation brings revelation much as
sunlight breaking through the clouds
on snow

lost again

seeking the self for others
lessens seek of self

sultry

bees work pink clusters
of the dainty china tea rose
nice sultry evening for a conversation

again

among apple blossoms pink
and periwinkles blue
snow rests

some summer day

some summer day
come into my garden
rich the treasure
sweet the pleasure
fill the flowing bowl
with flowers for the soul

apron

any task requiring the white shroud of a crisp starched apron
to be splattered and stained charmes me
pastels n primaries are all favorites
and every mixture in between

there it is

a doe stomps her pretty little foot
causing a retreat to a low cedar branch
hoping for a glimpse of her spotted fawn

delectable

strolling the awakened vineyard
sipping last years samples
a favorite thing
and the goodliness of their dessert wine
come home with me by the case....

inside

dreamt your thoughts lay inside
larger than life dominating yet quiet
and in turn neither could i move nor think

shibori shibori

swish and swirls of colour
folding and twisting
binding and stitching
then compressing it all
garments of life fall

were i

were i

day dreams

manipulating fine milled masa and spices hot with finger tips
to encapsulate sweet pork, lavender and squash blossoms
infused aromas floating about originating from
tamales steaming securely in their husks
is the only way to spend an afternoon finishing a fairy tale

tree

apricot tree looms
thickened trunk
wounded limbs
laden with sweet white blooms

high mesa

two elk stand
one head down
one head up
straining ears to catch my sound

by and by

covey of quail
crosses my path
after dusting down

yearling listens for a sound
then stepping high walks
round my trail

hawk glides low and soft
like words on a roving breeze
passes as a shadow on the grass

seeing me by and by all but fox

night sitting

the hermit doesnt sleep at night:
in love with the blue of the vacant moon
the cool of the breeze
that rustles the trees
rustles him too


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