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Wednesday, February 26, 2014


She’s wrapped in the security
of her inner tube, made whole
by his hot breath,
the water around her a mystery,
shaping her form, set by the
limits of her pool.
A hole in the water,
that’s all she might be,
were it not for his breath,
keeping her afloat,
in the pool, in the town,
in the earth, on this marble in flight,
in one particular speck of an
immeasurable space.
Who of us could see her,
held firm in his love, still think
there is no God.

Friday, February 21, 2014

Just Beneath Our Busy Lives

Just Beneath Our Busy Lives

wondrous things await,
lesser ones as well,
visible to the open eye, the willing heart,
not hiding at all, if we choose.
Just beneath that stop for groceries,
a chance to make someone’s day,
to thank that clerk, mention their name,
grateful for their work, letting them know.
Just beneath that amber light,
a chance to slow, to pause,
making it a smile moment,
letting go the held breath, the tension,
every moment a choice.
Just beneath that daily chore,
a chance to notice large small things,
that shining plate, sparkling floor,
the dust-free shelf, your happy child.
Just beneath that illness,
a chance to heal, to rest,
to think about what’s coming,
in this life and the next,
a chance to choose to be here now,
present moment, wonderful moment.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Nothing is Separate

There is a Santa Rosa plum tree,
which I planted,
on the 118th day of 1975,
over the septic field
in the more-or-less-an-acre
at 6045 Hyland Way,
Penngrove, California.

There is the world
as it is and
there is the world
which we see.
I am certain, however,
that I am in that tree
and that tree is in me.


As inevitably as spring
leads to summer,
fall follows.
As assuredly as heart
leads to joy,
love follows.
As completely as
love leads to sharing,
peace follows.
As securely as
peace leads to calm,
life follows.
As predictably as
life leads to death,
new life follows.
As inevitably as fall
leads to winter,
spring follows.


You pout,
A kitten cries,
Fog curtains the sun.

You smile,
The Buddha sighs,
A rainbow pauses.

You point your tongue,
My heart laughs,
A summer shower

Harmony II

You’re so lucky,
I said.
she asked.

You have had me
to love.
She laughed.

No, really,
I am so in need of love
You have loved so well.

I tried,
She said.
Oh, way more than try.
You did so well.

And now?
Who will you love?
she said, at last.

Clean Sheets Day

Hurray, hurray, it’s Clean Sheets Day.
No time to read, no time to play.
Tasks abound, they always do,
grocery shopping, ironing too.
I promised, after all those miles,
to be of service, wearing smiles.
I cook the meals, sometimes well.
I love it when they cast a spell
of happiness, unfettered glee,
it really means so much to me
to see the pleasure it gives you,
it’s truly selfish, what I do.
The cleaning is, at best, not bad,
we need those visits from the maid.
I hope it agrees with my honey,
I need help, the maid needs money.
The dishes are an easy chore,
it cleans my fingernails, what’s more.
But nothing seems so much like play
as Thursday, known as Clean Sheets Day.
Towels, undies, pants, a shirt
are ridden of their nasty dirt.
I always save the sheets for last,
so they’re the final item cast
upon the bed before we sleep,
their clean fresh fragrance ours to keep
in memory as we drift off,
our daily aches so soon to doff,
remembering at last to pray
we’ll make it to next Clean Sheets Day.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Nashville Rag

Bill and Shannon,
sittin’ in a tree,
huggin’ and kissin’
in Tennessee.
Lovie’s not a-Howellin’
and Baron soundly sleeps,
Sam Hall’s finding safe spots,
knows they’re there for keeps.

The Johnny Cash Museum,
four more hands in play.
What’s that, the kids don’t need ‘em?
That’ll be the day.
The new kid on Third Avenue,
nothing does it lack,
a brand new House of Cash,
praise the Man in Black.

Corona’s in the rearview,
the mountain’s closed for good,
Palm Springs still a favorite,
when sunshine fits their mood.
They’re on a grand adventure,
great wonders a sure bet,
new things to see, to go, to be,
and friends they’ve never met.

So here’s to Bill and Shannon,
Nashville’s newest toy,
wishing them 100 years
of happiness and joy.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

A Forest Is An Acorn

Would you have hope, offer one penny.
Would you have dreams, proffer one cheer.
Would you have health, eat one small apple.
Would you have success, work for one hour.
Would you have fun, unschedule one day.
Would you have humor, smile at one joke.
Would you have beauty, open one eye.
Would you have music, make one simple sound.
Would you have faith, accept one unknown.
Would you have agreement, let one bias fall.
Would you have quiet, sit still for one minute.
Would you have love, hold on to one hand.
Would you have peace, just love one another.

Getting Off One's Ass

One poem for one in angst
One dollar at one store
One can to one food bank
One card to one sick child
One call to one official
One book to one small town
One well for one sick village
One brick for one new dike
One shot for one new life
One step is all one needs
One Kiva for one world
One peace at a time

Saturday, February 15, 2014



If I could paint a masterpiece,
you’d be in it,
and all of our dogs and cats, too,
and it would be a perfect day,
with green grass, bright flowers,
a sky of blue.
If I could paint the perfect picture,
there’d be no frustrations,
no conflict, certainly no pain,
no fast leap to being old folks,
no, we’d be fresh and young again..
Can you imagine a day so perfect?
I can, reflecting on the day
that you were sent my way.
I can imagine that day so perfect
with the peace of the mythic dove.
It’s easy for me, you know, since
I am always with the one I love.
Can you imagine a day so perfect,
a valentine in every way,
where all we need is each other.
Today is such a day.