View from Above

High above

the appropriated coast

pewter sea

battering the

beaches and the cliffs

valleys going

bronze and the hills

in flame

peninsular ignition

a found continent

stuck to my boot

macro in the micro

scanned

hyperbolized

art at the tap

of a key.

"Paintings are too hard. Machines have less problems." –Andy Warhol.

–After reading about the Wade Guyton show at The Whitney.

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Place

I've walked the streets of Paris in the rain,

I've stood unsteady on the Cliffs of Moher,

I've been around enough to understand

the journals of Thoreau and his advice:

Travel is a fool's paradise.

While It Lasts

Today

I could not

leave

the road

in the

on-again

off-again

rain

falling

from heaven

to heaven.

Please click on any photo to enlarge all and see each in its turn.

You are looking at what the Nature Conservancy predicts
will be for decades a "high impact" zone
for Marcellus Shale drilling and hydrofracking.

Read "The Fracking of Rachel Carson."

(click above)

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Weathering

Weather

heavy on

the field

all things

beautiful

in rain

us too.

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Equatorial Intersection

Moments before harvest in the sliding equinox.

At this latitude

true equinox

was yesterday,

or so I'm told,

by quirk of atmosphere

and linear extension

yesterday was

equal blue and

equal gold,

and so were we,

equal parts

reality and

possibility.

Shall we extend

celestial spheres

discovering

by intersection

which is greater

at this latitude?

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Living in Pennsylvania

No matter

however carved up

we get

keep on

making the best of it

so what if

our acre's down

to one square foot

these worshipers

of blind Plutus

will recede

the pendulum

will swing

meanwhile

do what you can and

take heart

there will be more

like us.

–inspired by, and with lines from "The Best of It," by Kay Ryan.

Coincidence

A mucilage of leaves

becoming one, becoming soil.


The pleasures of the season

intensified by longer night.


All things in attraction

stronger toward each other.


Cooling earth beneath our flesh,

we are the warmer for it.


Amazed at the coincidence,

touching amid infinite expanse.

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Islander

Please click to enlarge.

Welcome to the Silence Islands

where the scream of a migrating hawk

stops a native in his walk

up the valley of flowing similes,

and they change course.


Come sit awhile in the blueish evening breeze,

give us another moment with the trees,

and then we'll talk.

Reading in Bed

The fields are cooling

in the night

creatures moving

under half a moon

and in a house a man

is weighing what

he should have done

but mostly what

he should have not

the dogs of consequence

are barking 'til first light.

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Balance

We sense it when we're still,

the balance of the equinox,

the sun rising and setting in 12 hours,


Day and night and us afloat in time,

ambition evanescing with the dew,

conscious of our brief dwelling in loveliness.


We do not need wealth or plenty,

or even achievement, we only need

gratitude for the beauty of the world.

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