Dinghy at the bar
O ye gods,
that my rain-tossed pride
should give flataway
and leave me plank-scattered
and scared at this,
the bar
Why go to a future
You know is not there?
Yank that vine
and get at the root.
And when you’re done,
dig deeper still.
For roots have their own
invisible roots.
Cars
Strainer
You don’t want to hit a tree,
he said
(and I agreed).
And when you go over the falls,
don’t do it the usual way:
get down and hang on,
and if you go under,
make like a ball,
and please,
if you pop up,
don’t float all the way to the Columbia.
Swim to shore and we’ll all have
a better day.
Bike black backdrop
Lovely lost tomorrow
The first new leaf I turned
I pressed in a tablet of clay.
It worries me now
in its box in the drawer.
I never feel its pressure today.
Fishing trip
Soaring ribbons of light
Circle and twine –
see our voices
joined in song




