For Solitude’s Sake
sun, at last, showing a little of that vaporous red and orange late October originality, shadows cut with scissors, pale light and even paler glitter. an all-star cast of insect noises, wind picking up so trees can toss their tops off – an emptiness in the heart won’t do – your absence has these better ways of explaining...
Read MoreIncoming Fall
a garden golden-brown where apples pull branches low to paint grass with wasps blackberries darken against vivid green earth turns under my searching spade worms slide deep against coming frost pears hang against my hand ripe soft with scents that wait for...
Read MoreAlways Assessing Size
Between the size of a hummingbird’s skull and a whale, we take pride in being able to walk upright while thumbing a keypad and telling our friends what we’re seeing, thinking, planning, preparing to do. A hummingbird will not hesitate to attack a human being if it thinks it’s a threat. What a whale thinks as it sinks through the planet’s wet skin, no one knows. But, whatever it is, it makes them...
Read MoreCleveland Haiku #385
Abstract art— asphalt drops on the concrete sidewalk This haiku is from an ongoing project (close to 500 now) about the place where the poet lives.
Read MoreCleveland Haiku #384
Overheard— the career conundrum: life versus art This haiku is from an ongoing project (close to 500 now) about the place where the poet lives.
Read MoreAmerican Exceptional
There are rhythms running in my heart, wordless and sensuous as music, that, dreamlike, release images of mountains, massive, even grand, of prairies – especially prairies – immense, open, endless, American, and cataracts, rushing, tumbling, white, silver, sparkling as lifelines. In the caverns of memory, the skies of anticipation, the murk of the future, in treasured rubbish in the attic, broken streets of slums, flower beds behind keypad gates, I search constantly to find words for the energies anterior to words, for the e=mc2 of a single atom in the old wood of a pioneer’s...
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