Monday, July 26, 2021

poem 73

[now what to do]
 
squash and cucumbers
push open black wire gates
meant to protect not imprison
the wide lush leaves
startling yellow flowers
gleaming powerful tendrils
twining and lifting and triumphal
seemingly unaware
fragility forgotten in precious moments 
striving beneath summer’s
full moon and blazing sun
dreaming with no thought
of raking hooves claws teeth
raccoon skunk and opossum
 
[no way to warn them]

Saturday, July 17, 2021

poem 72

Sweet Scales Irrevocably Tipped
 
how is it we bid farewell
not knowing what lies beyond
witless we empty the well
as if our soundings play true
not hollow knocks on death’s door
goodbye water goodbye
 
as if we ignore don’t know
what comes next already arrives
tomorrow just there just there
when we tell ourselves big lies
our children’s green world burning
goodbye water goodbye
 
somewhere else far flung beyond
earth submerges her shores her cliffs
her meadows her bays our homes
our ruin hot greed melting
ice beneath entire islands
goodbye goodbye goodbye

Saturday, July 3, 2021

poem 71, v.3

Itza wants Peace

whatever that means

late at night she wakes

in urgency

in cramping muscles  

in doomness

[i tell her doomness is not a word]

and she insists

rants and raves

that whatever

letters one pulls together

are words—words as if                

Sunday, June 27, 2021

poem 71

Itza wants Peace

whatever that means

late at night

she wakes in

urgent cramps

muscles parched in doomness

[i tell her doomness is not a word]

she insists rants raves

that whatever letters

one pulls together to express are words

—words as if


poem 70

sky rumbles
bombers streak
Itza stares
beyond blue
layers shift
fire out once
more streaks tear
home strip fuel
up fill up
rip southward
again and
Itza pins
wire frames shut
hands aching
startling thought
terrible
how what saves
douses homes
forests fields
skills planes born
of dropping
red hot death
somewhere else

Thursday, June 10, 2021

poem 69

our most reliable harvest
rocks of all sizes
sharp edged
multitudes jammed
in loose fines
 
only now after a lifetime
digging prying hauling
complaining
only now i understand
your precious nature
 
how beautifully you stack up
and stay put [for the most part]
how you keep our steep land
and not let it slide away
in stormy muddy slurries
 
your rings of stability
rubble walls holding
soil and tomatoes
basil and onions
garlic and artichokes
 
how you catch fragile choke fronds
how you give their knotted roots
something to grasp
so they can hold their thick stalks tall
so their heavy heads might chase the sun

Sunday, April 25, 2021

poem 68

Littlecity 
V.
we never forget love swirlin’ under stardust
swaying west in spins defying knowledge  
fueling decades of dreams we hold and burnish
like great-granny’s tiny spoon collection
began when her young man sent her one
during the war he never spoke of once he came home
never explaining how he got it or nothin’ 
about the brightly enameled castle on real gold plate
except how the castle looked in the moonlight
reminding him of Molly and their last night
curled together under a ratty wool blanket
in his dad’s old blue pickup top of buckthorn ridge
and how remembering lovin’ and talkin’ and cudlin’
in her arms got him home alive even if nothing else
hid inside him made sense no more
to keep on living he somehow found and bought Molly
another teeny gold enameled spoon every april
every year a different picture but always springtime
until he dropped dead filling in on the green chain
two days before he turned seventy