Nocturne (Blue Grosbeak)
arrives to be seen?
of the day
comes and goes
in the same
more felt than heard.
The grosbeak sings
of a motion
blending with night.
The air is cool.
A leaf utters
its own message
Nothing awaits it.
* * *.
Posted in Perception, Poetry |
Tagged birds, creative writing, gardens, language, meditation, peace, philosophy, poems, poetry, writing, zen |
My poem “Every Drop” appears in the latest edition of
Tiny Seed Literary Journal . Many thanks to Emily Cayer and the Tiny Seed editorial staff for publishing this piece.
Posted in nature, Poetry |
Tagged creative writing, gardens, life, love, mindfulness, nature, poems, poetry, relationships, writing |
But what of this notion
of the romantic?
It rained last night.
I could smell it
before it fell,
each drop a perfect
sphere until the final
is fact, impractical but
lovely for its truth.
* * *
Initially posted here in January of 2014, the poem was published many years ago (30?) as a poetry postcard offered by the literary journal
Amelia. I admit to being wrong about the shape of raindrops. But hey, they start out spherical…
Posted in Poetry |
Tagged acceptance, creative writing, gardens, language, life, literature, mortality, nature, poems, poetry, romantic, writing |
Setting Fire to the Rose Garden
Each flower is a gift, a testament to
another morning’s arrival.
I watch you tend the firestar, its
mango-colored petals flirting with
the fire ’n’ ice’s elegant
red, accepting the pink indictment
of the flaming peace, and the
scarlet fireglow’s blush. You are like
a new sunlight crossing the day,
yet when I wave, a cloud passes over
you. Flames differ in this regard,
knowing they exist only as the product
of heat, oxidation and combustible
material, yet sharing their brief lives
with all who care to notice. I inhale
your dark thoughts, holding them
within, but later assemble my own
bouquet — wood chips and diesel
fuel, ground spinners, snakes,
strobes, rockets, candles, shells,
repeaters and a spark timer — and
plant it fondly in the garden. Oh,
how they’ll blossom before dawn’s
first touch. How they will shine.
“Setting Fire to the Rose Garden” was drafted during the August 2015 Tupelo Press 30/30 Challenge, and was subsequently published in T
he Paragon Journal’s [Insert Yourself Here]: an Anthology of Contemporary Poetry.
Posted in Poetry |
Tagged creative writing, crime, flowers, gardens, National Poetry Month, poems, poetry, psychology, relationships, roses, writing |
My poem “Love in the Time of Untruth” is live at
. Many thanks and much admiration for editor G.F. Boyer for taking this piece and for being so kind during a difficult time. Clementine Unbound
Aubade (Inca Dove)
evokes the evolution of hand
and wing, a growth
reflecting all we’ve come
to know. Two doves
sit on the fence, cold wind ruffling
their feathers. What brings them
to this place of no
shelter, of wind and rain
and clarity defied? Fingers
often remember what the mind
complicates our mornings.
This last appeared here in February 2018, and was originally published in
The Balcones Review in 1987. Seems I was enthralled with birds back then, too…
Posted in Birds, Poetry |
Tagged birds, creative writing, gardens, meditation, mindfulness, nature, philosophy, poems, poetry, writing |
My last five posts of 2018 are reruns of five of the most viewed posts on this site during the year.
Your light singes my roots
even deep underground, where
worms revel in your joy
and all the days’ secrets line up
awaiting their turn to kneel and
unwrap their daily truths in the
comfort of the chambered soil.
If I were a seed, I would wait
for your touch before sprouting,
and only then would I surge
to the surface, swallowing
your gift. Greedy but grateful,
I’d open, drink every drop.