Category: Poetry
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A wave of the hand to family and friends, then faces thinning to a smudge of shore. Blue sky opened between us, the hull rocking, rocking, learning the swell. The stern held steady. The sail filled and lifted into a painted sunset — yellows, pinks, and the long twilight purple of the unknown.
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Pacifica, CA 2022 Running my fingers through an infinity of golden grains, footprints and the wreckage of somebody’s collapsed sand castle, the ocean keeps pounding out some story at my feet, over and over, patient with me children are laughing their way into the ocean’s spilling spew a speaker from a beach bum’s van somewhere…
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Stretching my arms over that solid, smooth cedar table To hold her hand in mine Alone we talked underneath that 7:00 o’clock living room light We spoke of places we’ve been and places we dream of being What of Greece? Whitewashed walls leaning into a blue so flat it looks painted I picture her there…
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The barber sells confidence A gift for eyes that only want something pleasant to land on Conjured by a man who rents an adjustable chair In this small room Hair falls onto shoulders like annual trimming of mulberry trees Blades are sharpened Heads spin slow in vinyl chairs Men cloaked in black, circling like children…
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And there she was rocking that baby like the tide itself, like the gulf out there churning slow and eternal, swaying with her hips the old old rhythm that mothers have known since the first mother stood in the first doorway of the first cave with the first fire burning, patting that small back softly,…
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Walking over loose trail rock on the coast of Point ReyesFog dripping from bishop pine like rain A white-crowned sparrow whistles its morning songthere but not seenA black-tailed deer steps onto the trail then passes into the fog beyond the mossy trees
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Cool wind, brushed in tones of lake-blue, drifted across the water’s skin, ruffling it into soft ripples that lapped gently at my feet Quiet, ancient greetings from a body older than memory. Nearby, a pile of boulderstone, weathered and gray, rose like a relic from the earth. Silent, stoic, just beyond the whispering grass. And…
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