Sunday, November 16, 2014



When words have gone
And brushes dried up in their jars,
I play the cards.
Where nothing matters,
Nothing is at stake.
When the cards are bad,
Just shuffle.

Monday, October 27, 2014

Child of Time

Of time
To me;
Fresh faced child,
With me
Once again.
Apple cheeks grow thin,
Bright eyes dim,
Child of mine,
Don't run,

Tuesday, September 30, 2014



You are framed in finest gold;

Brilliant pigments run you through.

Ancient beauty, but not old --

You are framed in finest gold.

Swirled and flourished stories told

By the manuscript of you,

You are framed in finest gold,

Brilliant pigments run you through.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Light in Darkness

This is something I've wanted to draw/paint since I recently read a passage in a Louise Penny novel that uses the image of a moth's battering itself against a porchlight. It didn't occur to me to write it until I saw a prompt at d'Verse Poets. I still will draw it. That's next on my list. Meanwhile:


As for the Light in Darkness,

it's only just

a bare bulb promise

against which the lonesome soul

taps and taps 

her insistent longing

in an inevitable song 

of the night.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014


I give the earth,
indescribable as it is,
soft words
to catch the hem
of these wide cotton skies.

What else have I to share?

I am small and simple
as the prayer I breathe;

Even the ivy sings more sweetly.

Little art I own
to claim my place
that I should walk rightly
in this vast and wondrous world.

My words, soft as air,
are the humble gifts I offer.
Poor widow's mite,
what else have I to share?

Friday, August 22, 2014

If they gunned me down

Photo from Internet images. 

If they gunned me down,
ripping through my head,
would they leave me there
for dead, afraid my years would
would snatch them up?
Is walking in these old white bones
crime enough?

Everybody knows how they are.
I'm not prejudiced, but...
old white women, capped
and dyed and tucked!
You can't disguise deceit.
They're Dangerous, not Us.

Would they let me bleed,
if they gunned me down
because I'm white and old?
Would I lie there dead and cold,
and would they ever see
a human heart shot through?

If they gunned me down
If they gunned me down,

I saw this quote on Unvirtuous Abbey: "For those who say, 'I'm not prejudiced but...,' Let us pray!"

Saturday, August 16, 2014

Circa '62

Circa '62

Through a trapdoor
down steep stairs
on the dirt floor,
beside some dusty shelves, 
it stands: a rusted can 
as tall as we are tall.
Even with the cover tight,
the odor fills the room,
and in the dim light,
we swoon in yeasty haze.
We fill our cups
and dare to tip them up,
secret in our ways,
these heady home brew days.

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Peace Song

Peace Song

Someday, we sing of peace
as shadows sing,
as wind.
The cherry blossoms still;
yellow birds sit branches.
Heaven holds its breath.
Someday, we sing again
of peace,
as shadows sing. 
As wind.

This poem is written on the 69th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima. God help us.

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Prompt, Me


Write about the stars, you said,
The Tour de France, how music looks
If you can see the sound.

I draw short rays, points of dust,
A spiral then a snail
Atop a bug. And clouds.

I've settled now,
Into this sack of bones. Where I want
Is where I go.

I can no more prompt me
Than I can stop the sparks 
In the eye of this winged pig caught in a net 
Of my making.

Monday, July 14, 2014

Prayer of the Soil


Let me not be rocky ground,
parched and cracked, burned by sun
green then yellowed, bitter, brown,
all good intent, but fallow, shallow.

Let me not be choking weeds,
grasping, climbing, blocking sun
roots that run, smother seeds,
thick and high, but sticking, pricking.

Let me, God, be fertile soil,
tilled and plowed, enriched by sun,
abloom with wheat, embody royal
Word made flesh to flourish, nourish.