O friend I’ve failed to be.
Would that I could cut out
the cuts that slip from me.
Tag Archives: poetry
A carp paid the wind
To build a wall —
it’s ice ‘tween him and me.
And there he sits in his dark,
knowing I can’t see.
But I’ve cut a hole
and drawn a chair:
I’ve the patience of a tree.
Comes a thaw,
I’ll crash through that wall
and face to face we’ll be.
Thy twisting Word
On a tree
flipped the earth
and flung the sea.
His waves in space
are coursing still.
They have a lot of
time to kill.
Landing in the snow at Friday Harbor
We’ll not miss the island.
When we’re near, it will beckon.
A line of lights will point the way,
and we’ll have more than
this roar and blue buffeting —
more to guide us
than the glow of little dials.
Snapshot
You still see our smiles
but it’s dark and we’re
dropping through the bottom.
It’s as in the two-act dream
where the kiss leads to the search
and the path disappears.
In the harbor of dark
The light ghost came sailing
What God will and will not do
Takes some getting used to
I love a fishbone tree
Draw a sailboat in a circle:
I’ll sail you to the sea.
Give me your triangles,
your loopy clouds,
your beach-stick fire
with swoopy flame:
we’ll squiggle up in happy smoke –
you won’t regret you came.
Silence is a pocket
In the air
it’s where
I keep my money
The arrowy requests
We sent with our eyes
left us scattered, fallen
aching up
unto the gleaning
Utrecht Journal 