Since

Long ago, when Father died
    I was still a young man.
In the time since, I’ve tried
   To grow, as I walk in time’s land.

Came a night recently,
    In dream he was there.
In his hands he held lightly
    My plans for life’s career.

He looked at me with
    The strength of years wise;
His words were of pith
    And there, respect in his eyes.

written April 14, 2025

Middle Days

The tree tips are swollen, pushing buds high,
Yet flakes of snow make trails down the sky—
And things have come that I worry by.

This middle day holds more winter than spring
But soon it will be spring and summer, alternating—
And with it, all the warmer things.

The duck, there, pauses in the pond
And his ripples still carry on . . .
Given time, spring will sing her song.

written April 7, 2025

Tone

Bare trees are silhouetted in the fog,
A chimney gives white to white.
I hold this morning’s mood
but look forward to afternoon’s light.

written March 31, 2025

Daylight

sometimes
when I’m in 
a bit of a mood
it feels like I’ll never
feel good again
but then
I hear some birds
chirping outside
I get some coffee
and breakfast
in me
and okay
the Earth
has turned enough
to bring daylight
once again

written March 11, 2025

A Gathering Spring

a quiet rain
fell on a kind Sunday morning
the air was cool
with hints of warmth
spring was feeling inevitable
some new ideas came to me
for an old project
I dreamt of things
with a cup of green tea
this afternoon
I’ll give myself a haircut
and shave my winter beard

written March 16, 2025

Sunny Morning on the East Side of My Home

{the landscape is a cup of coffee
with birdsong the sugar
and sunshine the cream}

morning 
what will you
kindly teach me
what things 
will we
wonder together

written March 10, 2025

You Who Await Spring

You who await spring, although everything
wears the weight of cold, a bird
alights and then another. You’re thinking
of those cool mornings of warm days
that somehow hold something of the warmth
to come. In between seasons a gauze curtain is
draped. You’ll step outside and move beyond
the light fabric and though little has yet changed
behind that cloth is the mind that knows
days steeped in hope.

written March 4, 2025

Into Winter Morning

I wake in the morning
of the third month of winter
pull open the drapes
and feel the cold weight
of the snow resting
on a gray landscape

yet I hesitate to wish
it away as a part
of me knows that more
of this that gives
of quiet inward mind
is needed before
the days finally come
that are flush
with ruddy spring

February 24, 2025

Pursuits

you see that try-hard
has become rigid
so instead you think to
relax when you’re sitting
take preferences more lightly
set the table
light the candles
and patiently await
the guest

written February 17, 2025

Creating

I consider how life may
offer her paths before me
and I imagine the land
along the way but I
also apply
imagination to the perception
of where I stand
to create
some reality around it
the realness of story
the trees stretching above
and me
taking a step

written February 13, 2025

I See Myself Older

I see myself older
sitting like I sit now,
drinking coffee,
drifting through the pages
of a book, but then
with a beard all gray
and less hair on
my head to shave—anyway,
I’ll be sitting, sipping
a mug of coffee, thinking
of some imagining
from today
that touched down
like a maple seed
and nestled
in soil and would grow
into some greenery of
my life, which my
gray-bearded self
is shaded by
calmly and with kindness.

written January 27, 2025

(Cool Blue) Early Morning

snow-covered ground
(& sleeping buildings)
robins are up through cold air
into trees I say a prayer
before coffee I’m thinking about fear
(& a matter-damp mind)
how to dry off I’m not quite sure
we are on the East Coast
as it turns we wait
for the light to break through
(but till then I’ll take the song
of bird)

written January 31, 2025

Transparent

a cup of water
a drop of red
expands and tints
it red a drop
of blue and the water
purple but what
of such a clear drop
upon touch the cup’s
water again transparent

a flake of snow
drops through the heavens
to pass by my window

remember
being there
in the cold air
with arms back
head tilted upward
tongue stretched out
waiting for
the touch
of crystalline water

written January 2025

A Moment of Light

it could take the shape
of a sunshine cup of coffee
steam like drifting mist
with sun draping the table
in the old jazz floral cafe
and the gleaming knife
as you spread the lemon spread
and the gleam itself
it can feel like a kindness

written January 2025

Outside the Library

before
the winter
storm
its scent
in the air
comes to me
outside
the library

from January 2019

Gifts

Going out to my car,
the air is relaxed for
a November evening.

Running late, and
still enough time
to gaze at the moon.

written November 2021

Meeting

my mind is a garden
wander yourself in it friend
bring some of your mind flowers
see if they would grow
and if you would like
take a plant or two
with you for your travels
perhaps we’ll meet again

written July 2024

Unfounded Worry

the prayer came back:
this cold blue thing
is not to be dissolved 
instead     accommodated
and then when inevitably disturbed
that thing     (now anticipated)
is not an unnecessary call
to action     but
something to accept     yes:
we’ll let it play in the corner
till it’s done

written August 2024

A Thread

We don’t gather
in evenings with instruments
or stories so maybe
art and music and writing
their media, is a connection
(among this isolation)
to others, a thread
of meaning, shared.

written June 2022

Between Dense Cloud Cover and Moist Earth

Jung wrote that
life is not a string
of facts of external events
but is instead
made of story composed of myth

on a day when
the gray is a tone
that all the form all the color
seem to all speak

the chrysanthemum such a yellow
such a yellow as if illumined
by its own light

written October 2022