the redwoods

tall tall trees,

i seek your wisdom, and spread your soil.

i will always love you.

ex.tension

during childhood, I began to collect fragments, mostly eggs shells,
blue robin eggs, fallen from the barn rafters.

these days I stare at the sky, laying on my back,
waiting for something new to fall.

crack open. crumble in my hands.
my hands are ready to build with fragile pieces.

yesterday,
in a ditch i found a baby bird to craddle,
sing lulla-byes to.

winter's humility

winter's dusting,
virgin confetti.

knowing the way,
move steady like fighter pilot

trust that
all is quiet now,
but the noise
you can never
escape.
the cells spliting
and the rivers slapping
stones

blessed,
shhhh.

gathered and still,
animals nestling in peace.


cresent moon, sitting

oh, home is a cup of Lapsang Souchong tea.
my lover knows my disappointment
when i cannot pour it.

often feeling more at home outdoors than in,
i leave to walk the woods,
slump under thick bark and nestle
into leaves

the wisdom of realizing one's own ignorance,
insignificance and lowliness,
without which one cannot see the truth.

leaves curling, leaves fallen

collecting the ground::






fred's handmade saw horses now turned temporary table,
displays, today's excavation, salvaged trays and boxes.