Poetry

A MALLARD AND THE RED SHOES I glide through a velvet watermirage of swirling autumnalcolor. In the water, trees bleedand shimmer. I glide throughtrees, and trees are water and wateris sky. I am mallard. I...

TO PAINT A CLOUD To paint a cloud,apply colors, etherealand pure. Translucentlike white powdermisted onto silk. Wield your brushinto the heavensso your cloudsheave, like an ocean’sgreat waves or stampeding horsessoaring into the sky,a gambol of dragons,swirling bearers...

The Yelling Man The man screeches at the bird watcher he nearlyruns over, screams at his ice cream meltingin the heat, shouts at his noisy twins just being kids.He once had a wife. But he...

Modest Triumph At the dour end of a dismal dayin a run of such daysthat compose an agewhere I find myself no longer young,somehow I come almost alivewith evening, PBS NewsHour,a modest dinner, and after...

Half of New Territory The rain’s let upas the last few drops of milk and tears snake downthe cereal bowl, on the breakfast table,covered in silence and soaked in honey-we go about deaf and blind,...

Desire #31(a meditation on a condition) The crazy lady tries to get intimate with meevery Wednesday & Friday. I say,“Listen, lady, you should ask before going through someone’s bag—& hey that’s my fucking magazine!”She leaves,...

We Are All Complicit In Mariupol, a man searchesall night in the rubble of his house.“Four children, four adults,” he says,as day breaks. He starts to dig their graves. On a New York street a man...

Four Haikus Music Music feeds the soulTouches our deepest recessesLove and cherish it. Rippling Lake Gently rippling lakeBathed in soft autumn sunlight.Leaves in myriad shapes. The Starling As I sip coffeeA starling settles nearbyPlumage speckled white. Lilac Leaves Green leaves turn yellowPerfectly...

Prodigal Daughter The girl asked nothing from me,just left, hitching I suppose,my car still in the garage,my wallet untouched.She looks just like her mother,relatives say when they learn. When I search her room, I find herchildhood...

I Will Miss the Train My shift starts earlyOn the ward, so I seeAnd hear what mostOf my countrymenOnly learn about second-hand.For instance, This morning the sunStretched its armsRather timidly. I’ve never seen itBe so shy....