Another Sunset

Another sunset in a life of those

Days of what i should have done

Nights a trampled ground.

Savages

  

Evenings of a big red sun

Being still you feel it

Rolling back into the dark

Everything a metaphor

When so little changes,

Mornings in a mist.

  

Change

Among the last images of Saturn from Cassini, Sept. 19, 2017

Living as i am

Without

Half a life suffices

Peace to the past

And praise praise

The splendor of solitude

Superannuated

Ganglia and the freed

Dumbfounded intellect.

Due East, Due West

Please click and expand, expand, expand.

No matter how small, it can be halved

No matter how large, it can be doubled

Limitless in all respects, beyond imagination

Elemental, infinite, and eternal

Each and each and each

The universe of you, the universe of me

The universe of everything

The ineffable all

Brief specks of consciousness

Bowing as we pass on the equinox

Ever so slightly

Flying with Bees

He carried a camp chair into the field and sat with wild bees

At summer's end in tall solidago heavy with pollen and past

He was quiet and listened and the sun drew water from his flesh

And the day slowed down

And the longer he stayed

The more he belonged

The more he took root

The more he unfocused

The better he flew

Flower to flower

And into the blue

To expand with the clouds

As everything opened

Into everything else.

Meditation On the Approach of Autumn

Each tree writes its poem as i watch


Communing with her ashes in the field

The dead want leaves to fall on them again

Butterflies fly tattered near the end

Being As We Are

A day moves on,

Everything being as it is,

Aphids drinking goldenrod,

A crash in the corn is the deer,

Grinnies planting oaks among the ferns,

The barred owl calling in the vale,

A man awaiting sleep

In the late haunted dark,

Still expecting more,

Listening to an absence

That inspires verse,

Coyotes yipping and howling.

In a dream he felt her touch,

In jewelled morning fields

All of it seemed real.

Expand with a click.

Ephemeron

Today it doesn't matter what

She'll never write again.

Candle smoke was pretty

As it curled.

This Constellated Life

Launching from the cabin step

To navigate among the trees

Into a field of stars

The grounded constellations

Unanchored in this floating world

The woods is sleep

The field is sky

The dream is rolling sea