Tag Archives: 8

Six late-August evenings (2)

Six late-August evenings (2)


I heard the earth breathing through its lungs the trees.
Outside the beasts of habit prowled back and forth.

But we are all beasts on another’s street.
Inside, we are the small shadows of the trees,

Doing their opposite, breathing in what they exhale
As the earth breathes in our every word,

Translating each into half a hand of shade above us.
When dawn breaks, the sidewalk is empty.

A newspaper lays on its side by the butterfly bush,
Condensation misting words within the plastic bag,

The beasts of habit are nowhere to be seen
But the grass, wet and flattened as if from a struggle.

The headline says that the words
Had just fallen during the night

From the future

Looking to the ground on an overcast full moon evening and seeing the sky

Taken with NightCap Pro

Looking to the ground on an overcast full moon evening and seeing the sky

And on waking we move from the month
of vines to the month of ivy.

From sensing

our own growth relies on support to sensing

and a path we create by ascending.

The Barrier Keeper


The Barrier Keeper

For you the music is a stillness. Only what is still
Can walk the two roads. Here is your list

Of things to pack: did you forget the water?
Forget comfort? Forget profit and loss which rub

Against each other behind a tree? There’s a fire
In the woods between the roads. Forgetting

How to run you run without pain. The words
In these lines are here as guests and if you do

Not forget them they will have failed
Like guests who stay too long.

Along one road I found Chuang Tzu’s skull.
I only remember because I wrote what it said:

The ukulele and violin have traded hands.
The nine ordinary openings are closed

And the owl guards the dead rat.
This daughter exists because of what you

Didn’t do. Tell her this: As you play
Your fingers change as things change

And you forget them, and there is music.



Easy enough to call the contraband
Memory but is it? We didn’t mean

To find ourselves at the border
Of the moment with unexplained

Stuff in our bags. Mood altering
Substance. Clouds move away

Inexorable as a tango. The earth
Rolls us forward with everything

Every hour’s hand has held.