FALLEN LEAF LAKE

Wind whispers through Bishop pines

in secret sun dappled spot

We lie surrounded by pennyroyal and dust.

Sap drips in dark rivulets

I take your hand, seek your lips.

We are alone but for the sound of

Pine needles drifting to the forest floor.

Lake water laps licks at the shore

Melted glacier cools

The heat of high summer.

Waves break.

A breeze spins

Circles around us.

The sky: cloudless

High altitude blue

Fire/air/earth/water converge.

Earthy scents

Sierra in July.

Appeared in “River Sedge: University of Texas, Pan-American Press: Vol. 18,

And “Seeking Center,” Two Bridges Press

Ode to Cecil Bruner

Making Love in an Empty Apartment

Across the courtyard, late fall (crisp air,Windows shut against the chill),
Making love in an empty apartment, a couple
I do not know. I pause, on my way to work
Wonder why with the curtains packed, the boxes shipped
The dishes wrapped, the furniture sold or donated

[ read in full ]

Japanese Maple Tangka

Leaf upon leaf, dense
Paper-thin petals sheer as
Shadow behind shade
A bouquet of fine tissue
Green delight for tired eyes.

Paris Whistling

Birdlike notes sing through quiet Quarter,
Echo off ancient cobbled street.
A mynah’s hopeful love call.

Man whistles, long coat buttoned against late fall chill,
One note running up and down the scale of his hearts’ desire.
The singular music follows him like sunlight breaking clouds.

[ read in full ]

Transported

Lost in fog’s waterfall
We snake past Laguna Honda
Where Philip Whalen -
Bohemian, beat, Buddhist
Priest, lived his last. Wailed
“Put me to rest
On a bed of frozen raspberries.”

[ read in full ]

Anthology Sonnet

In the anthology we are reduced to type, temporal roommates –
Lovers, partners, perfectly bound by glue, string and fate.

We are a case of two who were designed to meet
No simple coin toss, but a coup, an editorial feat.
[ read in full ]

Torqued – for Richard Serra

The artist designed a change in the atmosphere
Went above our heads where
Towering shapes are safe harbor, a cave
Or, depending on your worldview,
The looming giant spaces skew
Too close, not enough air, or space.

Who dares the first step inside
To walk the barren landscape?
Who skirts the edge,
Afraid to enter emptiness?

[ read in full ]

DADDY-O

I: Uptown

Lex and 67th. The corner luncheonette — 1940’s décor. I’m
Sipping an egg cream, fizzy sweetness, afternoon half-light,
Back on that swiveling stool, enveloped in your presence.
You were SO big — and talking. Always talking.
Your legacy — a love of food and strangers.

Your headstone is a mess, daddy-o.
[ read in full ]

Requiem for a Dying World

Crouched figure folds into black chador
Four wooden crates balanced on bent back
She takes the steps into the Old City
One by one as mosque call pities
Men from shops and homes.
She does not pray inside the Golden Dome
She does not sigh or moan.
[ read in full ]

War Rant – Staying Sane

Alaina says she wants more passion
Andrea quit reading the morning news
Yvette sees “The Devil Wears Prada” –
Twice – her savior is in fashion.
[ read in full ]

Ghazal for Baiji, Goddess of Chang Jiang

Ancient lore recounts I was born with a princess’ spirit, a princess with a dream,
Of a chosen love, not pre-ordained. I lived on beauty, on dancing, in a dream.

I was re-born in slender dolphin’s form. Followed stars, planets, a moonbeam
(I refused the ugly suitor; my parents drowned me – this was no dream.)

Across continents I journeyed to the Yangtze, a river so rich, so very pristine.
Immersed in pure waters, I sang and swam and loved – this is not a dream.
[ read in full ]