The fabric of the world

in the hammock in the shade in the clearing in the woods with me a small mosquito, two birds nearby a shushing wind the bleats of sheep car on the road woodpecker knocking: rooster crows 30 feet above my head four maples meet and swing their greens in a blue sky the sun shines through, … Continue reading The fabric of the world

Me and Mrs. Jones

My vehicles have names. What's a vehicle? Anything with wheels, that I take to go on adventures. Car (Vivi, Mattie), bicycle (Genny, Francie, Gary)... Lawnmower? It's only since moving to my little two acres, with a big patch of cleared greenery to mow, and a Greenworks battery-powered mower to do it with, that I've started … Continue reading Me and Mrs. Jones

For that next bright dawn

The geese, all week, have been flying. Home. Away from this sharp promise of snow cutting through crisply darkening skies south, to the crucible of summer. Their far-carrying call slicing through the high, cold air picks up our hearts by the scruff and deposits them, safe but shaken and absurdly hungry for that next bright … Continue reading For that next bright dawn

From the fishpond

I. Seasons (A poem in four linked haiku) We orange, we silver, we brazen dazzlers twisting around Summer's knees: gold torpedoes flirt with air and blue sky, black bugs sucked from water's lip into hungry throats. A daily feast of algae. We grow fat. But now comes Fall. Beware - and clupe with bulging eye … Continue reading From the fishpond

Break the walls

The outdoors with its careless wings and scavenging feet invades through the brick and wood and breathing spaces of my July home. Hidden passageways open their secret doors: grasses, crumbs, and damp dark spaces compel the frontier crossers, oblivious to my imagined boundaries. Sheep come through the rail fence spiders decorate the ceiling corners ants … Continue reading Break the walls