refuge. Rain
Will come; the grass grows greener with each
Liquid drop that falls upon the lawn.
The winter’s here; the spring will come
And hives and air and secret stones
Will thrive with life and the birth of young.
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Bugles
I hear a distant bugle call on the wind.
There are no armies near enough to send
A cry to battle; this I think is a scout
Practicing his uncertain embouchure
Until his bugling is entirely sure
It keeps the scale in harmony. Once I
Blew a bugle to raise the flag at school,
Most military as we were in bygone days
When war was newly ended in the world.
So dim and distant those days seem to me.
Since then we’ve had more wars around the world.
Too bad the bugles blow their clarion
Command to make folk soldier boys and girls.
When bugles blow, too often good folk die.
Silence the bugles; let winds sing songs of peace
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The Cold Villanelle
The winter sun shines thin today.
The air is brittle in the cold.
The springtime warmth is gone away.
The winds scatter dry leaves in play
Across my back yard’s empty fields.
The winter sun shines thin today.
The pill bugs shun the frozen clay.
The dragonflies have died, I’m told.
The springtime warmth is gone away.
And winter winds are poised to flay
The bones of grasses brown and old.
The winter sun shines thin today.
The clouds have tattered and gone astray.
The blue skies stand not warm but chilled;
The springtime warmth is gone away.
Thin winter sun is on display;
It shimmers with scattered gold.
The winter sun shines thin today.
The springtime warmth is gone away.
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Loss Song
Silver mirrors catch the sun
Blaze them round the azure sky.
Dance with angels on the moon
Make tornados with a sigh.
Send the stars to frenzied spinning.
Set the spawning salmon swimming
And send
The wind
With the loss that will not end.
Let it scatter drops of grief
Over deserts, hills and seas.
It won’t bring me any relief
I must have my heart’s release
From the endless cage of sorrow
I would have it come tomorrow
But I
Must die
Ere my sorrow goes away.
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Little Rose
Little rose, little rose
On the mountain growing;
Do you feel winter winds
In the tree tops now are blowing?
Little rose do you sigh
For the warmer winds of summer
When white clouds cross the sky
And the sun is like a hammer?
Frozen rose would you thaw
Bloom again in wild profusion
When the cold goes away
Or go into dormant seclusion?
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I Hear Ladies Singing
I hear ladies singing
Funeral hymns and dirges.
Whom do they mourn, I wonder.
Somewhere clergy mumble
Elegies long written
And much used for funerals.
Some poor person dead now,
And beyond all caring,
Waits the graveyard’s quiet
Where the wind will wander
Whispering its dirges
In the graveyard grasses.
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Evergreens
The lemon tree and orange tree
Grow green all seasons, hoping the frost
Won’t touch the leaves. The lime and citron
The grapefruit, too, and tangerines
Defy the winter like pines and spruce
Defy the snow, promising spring
Returns each year to gladden folk.
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Earwigs
Folk wisdom claims it’s true;
Earwigs crawl in ears
To hide from predators.
The sleeping lads and lasses
All unaware shelter
The pincered bugs from harm.
What will they do should one
Clean her ears with swabs
Of cotton on a stick?
Crawl out or be crushed to death?
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Eucalyptus
The thin bark peels from eucalyptus.
It falls in brown shreds
To coat the grass grown green
From winter rains.
We have no koalas to eat the shreds,
No kangaroos
To trample the shreds to dust.
Yet Nature breaks
The tough bark down and powders it
To enrich the soil
With complex chemicals
To grow next year’s
New strips of bark. Such mystery,
Death and renewal
Over and over until
Time ends the whirl
Of seasons through a year. We live
With mysteries
And somehow, we still thrive,
With the unexplained.
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My Quiet Time
The dogs are at the groomer’s and the cat
Is stealing a dog-forbidden nap on my bed.
Today the sun is bright; the air is cold.
Somewhere folk are celebrating their dead,
And others dance at wedding ceremonies,
Still others bow and pray for a newborn child.
I relish my quiet for this afternoon alone
When winter air and sound alike have stilled.
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The Seekers
Elves and hobbits, dwarves and orcs
Congregate at the western havens,
Seeking immortal credentials.
Christian folk seek Heaven, Muslims
Make them ready for Paradise.
Buddhists court serene Nirvana.
Mortals all who hope for eternity,
May your hopes be fruitful for you.
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Desert Life
Sand whispers in the whistling wind.
By day the sun hammers the land.
Night chill crumbles the weakened stone
And brings forth more sand for the wind.
Strange creatures stir from burrows they’ve made
The stinging scorpion, the tarantula,
Odd lizards, coyotes seeking rabbits,
Snakes that slither with rasping sounds
To harmonize with the sandy wind.
Saguaro cactus and prickly pear
Harbor whiteflies and mealybugs.
Tough life to hang existence on.
And yet they thrive, these desert folk.
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The Seasons Come ‘Round
The time comes ‘round for the year to renew.
Again the seasons shall rotate
In order through the passing months.
The winter fades into the spring,
The spring withers into summer,
The withered summer falls to autumn
And shriveled winter comes back again.
To lead the new year to a spring.
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The Eastward Peaks
The eastward peaks are white with snow.
The setting sun will redden them
With a coral blush before the dark
Night cloaks them in a sable robe.
Stars glitter overhead, small points
Of light defying the looming dark
Until the dawn returns to spread
A patina of gold across
The eastern sky to greet the day.
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Sunset Sestina
The west is red with ending day.
The stars stand ready in the wings
To dance across the sable skies.
The fog musters on the seas
Ready to swallow unwary stars,
Or maybe even a bloated moon.
The silver of the rising moon
Strives to make the night a day.
It begs the scattered host of stars
For yet more light. No gulls spread wings
To soar above the restless seas
Or pirouette in the nighttime skies.
If I could soar the darkened skies,
I’d dance across the pock-marked moon
Above the never-sleeping seas
Or watch the golden birth of day
Enter the east on golden wings
That pales the glitter of the stars
Until there are no signs of stars
In all the brightened dome of skies.
If I were a bird with feathered wings
Could I ascend as high as the moon?
Could I reach the sun by day?
If I had fins to swim the seas
Would sharks be free to share the seas?
May mortals waltz among the stars?
Or are we captives of mundane day?
Shaking a fist against the skies
Will we be threats to the shining moon?
Or knock the gulls clean off their wings?
The gulls will fly on steady wings
Above the ever-churning seas.
No fist will shake the rolling moon
Or stop the dancing of the stars.
No wiping finger will clear the skies.
The west is red with ending day.
And now the day on dusky wings
Leaves darkened skies and restless seas
The foggy stars and careless moon.
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Spring Tanka
The river flows west
Fat with the snows of winter.
The trout circle round
The gravel to make their redds
For springtime spawning of fry.
The waiting ocean
Harbors starfish, squid and sharks.
Whales breach the wild waves
And dolphins dance with the surf
To celebrate the coming spring.
Inland the jonquils
Break their binding buds and bloom
Golden as the new sun.
Green grass will gladden my heart
And thaw the winter therein.
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One January Day
Bare branches rubbing
The empty sky with their twigs
Tangle in the clouds
Running with the wind.
The clouds obscure, then reveal
The sun’s brilliant face.
Somewhere the stars hide
Waiting for the night’s return
And the moon’s escort.
The frost leaves the air
As warm sun waxes warmer.
Fleeing north until night.
The frost waits for dark
To return and sun to set.
Let chill take the night.
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January Day
Today the skies are grey with ocean’s mist.
The faded blue of winter’s skies is gone.
Behind the grey that hides the distant west
Lurks the dimly remembered summer sun.
The green lawn shivers under frost that coats
Its tender blades with whitened icy sheathes
The trees stand strong above their sleeping roots
The hibernating bear cub slowly breathes
Beside its mother in some cave somewhere.
The seeds of summer weeds sleep in the soil
Until the springtime sun shall warm the air
And melt the snow. The rivers shall rise and roil
Down mountains and valleys and fill the lowland lakes
With water, enough to float both ducks and drakes.
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Funeral Plans
My funeral plans are made,
The hymns and scripture chosen
I hope to comfort those
Who remain when I am gone.
The elegy I leave
To clergy’s choice. Whether rain
Or sun controls the day
Is beyond my power to choose.
Weep not for me, survivors,
I am beyond all caring.
Weep for yourselves if you must
Weep for anyone.
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Winter Night
The sun and clouds play tag across the sky.
The wind whispers a song of love long gone
To faded leaves that do not care. The lawn
Bends before the wind that’s passing by.
The sun pretends to hide because it’s shy.
Far westward waits the ever-patient moon
For the bedtime of the blazing sun
And night to spread its black across the high
Dome of the heavens studded with stars so white
They dazzle one’s eyes. Go now to rest, O clouds
And sun, and let the moon begin its rule.
We wish to shelter in the starry night
As moon and stars travel the welkin’s roads
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The Dream
Down the stairs Madam comes
Resplendent in crimson
Silken gown, shod with heels
Too high for an easy
Descent to the lower floor.
This I dreamed; don’t know why.
Perhaps it was dinner,
Or a gift of my nerves
Or maybe a blanket
I tossed aside in the night.
I woke scared, breathing hard,
Pajamas wet from sweating
Did she hold poison rings
Or other devices
For sudden secret death?
When it’s day dreams must fade
And reality blossom
Vulgar, bright, harsh and hard
But I would far rather
Live in a world of dreams.
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Cypresses
My cypress trees are spears
Aimed at the sky’s blue dome
What hands my hold them lies
Beneath the clay and loam.
I do not know the quarrel
These unseen hands might have
With the welkin’s azure bowl
Or why the trees stand ready
To launch an attack on the sky.
Some mysteries I can’t
Decipher. This is the way
The world’s become for me,
An unsolved mystery.
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Winter Wind
Hear the wind of winter blowing
Through the treetops thrashing under
The blue and grey cloud cover
Of the welkin. The chill wind frosts
The air wi
th a cutting edge of ice.
I keep to the house where fires fight frost.
The dogs and cat are done with cold.
They do not linger long outdoors,
Preferring to be with their boss and his blanket,
He welcomes them, their warmth is comforting.
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Daffodils
The daffodils are in bud.
Small seeds swell with rain
Preparing to burst forth
As weeds or flowers or food.
Renew the year, o spring,
And warm the chill I carry
In the chambers of my heart.
I do not welcome age
And its touches on my flesh.
I like the things I’ve learned,
And now I know of things
I’m too old to perform.
Come, budding daffodils,
Bloom for me now, I ask,
In glories of gold and white.
Drive back a while the night
That threatens to overwhelm
My shriveled flesh and life.
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Rain Song
When the rain falls from the sky
Will I be someplace dry?
I know the rain renews
The winter earth for spring
Of this I sing.
The rain is wet and cold.
It always is, I’m told.
Despite its chill it readies
The earth for warmer days
When stems shall rise
From the seeds that lay asleep
In the soil layers deep
Under the sand and sod.
I do not curse this rain
That comes again.
I’ll keep indoors this storm
Because I’d rather stay warm
Than drip with frigid wet
I’ll not travel the roads
Under gray clouds.
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The Lucky Boy
The lucky boy finds love one time.
A boy with a girl or sometimes with a boy,
Some other with whom he lives in joy,
Some other with whom he makes a home.
Others go unloved throughout their lives,
Forever looking for the one
To complete them. When their time is done
They go un-mourned to earthen graves.
Now in my time I’ve had the gift
Of love given to brighten my days.
Long dead my man is; I realize
Remembered love’s all I have left
And that’s a treasure that has no price;
It warms my heart with afterglow
Of remembered times so long ago
And eases my familiar loss.
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Night Ends
The long night ends in scarlet dawn
A harsh wind rises from the sea
The darkness fades until it’s gone.
And then when night’s long rule is done
The sun breaks out in ecstasy.
The long night ends in scarlet dawn,
Red skies made by the rising sun.
How can such wonders come to be?
The darkness fades until it’s gone.
The night, so unrelieved by a moon
Or stars in Heaven’s canopy,
The long night ends in scarlet dawn
Catching, unwary, a little fawn.
The red skies blaze, a mystery.
The darkness fades until it’s gone
It will return when afternoon
Has wiped the azure sky away.
The long night ends in scarlet dawn
The darkness fades until it’s gone.
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Ode to Ganja
O wondrous weed! You gift of gods
From some old faith long forgotten,
Or perhaps some hope of the misbegotten,
Or yet again, against all odds,
A vagary of nature’s way
Made you a source of joy and peace
With visons in your leaves of lace
And games for my spirit to play.
Now I bless your modified genes
That make my spirits soar on high,
And lift my soul above the sky
And dull my aches and pains.
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The Lusty Youth
The lusty youth surveyed the room
Of folk in lacy skirts and breeches,
Seeking the maid most near his heart.
She was not there. He sagged with gloom.
Amidst the multitude of maids
His most beloved did not whirl
Or pirouette a minuet
Or promenade in measured steps
To strings and winds in harmony
Entwined. Perhaps the powder room?
That refuge sacred to womankind
Could harbor ladies safely for hours.
But how to know? He looked about
For a dowager to ask her to check
For the sweet young maid. Then she entered
On the arm of a handsome man unknown
To him who sought her. She waved her fan
To coax a languorous breeze to cool
Her fevered cheeks. She nodded slightly
At some word her escort spoke.
She turned and kissed the unknown man
And they waltzed as two lovers will.
The lusty youth sighed once, defeated,
And assessed the other maids in the room.
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I Wrap Me in Clouds
I wrap me in clouds
Gray as the skies above my head
For I am saddened
By the dark that looms
Deep in the core of my soul,
Festering away.
I long for a lance
To drain the sore within me,
Cleanse my weeping wound,
So I can wrap the sun
Around me and stride the world
Glowing bright with pride.
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The Meadowlark
Earth bound bird
Often I’ve heard
Your loud cheery song
As I walked the fields
Rough with stubble
Flightless one.
Earth bound bird,
On this small plain
Where there are no larks
You echo in me
The songs of home
Remembered bird.
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Rose-Red Skies
Day dies in rose red skies.
The shaded hand of night
Wipes black across the sky
And pricks the holes for stars
And peeping moon to see
The frost that coats the