In those hills
In fact
The yak
If put in a sack
Knows how to quack
It’s just a simple
fact
– written in honor of Ogden Nash and Jack Prelutsky

water weaves waves reflecting brick and weeds window refracting sun sprinkling light on playful crests weaving water waves
dream
salt sea foam
clams scurry
dig themselves
into sand
as the waves recede
we are young
i wrap
burgundy and cobalt
gauze scarf
about my torso
my nipples show
i reach out
to touch
your silken sandy curls
as cigarette smoke
sinuously rises
your voice rumbles
weakens my knees
Dark night,
sea seeps into sky.
I make footprints,
sand soft against my soles,
soft against my soul,
dipping my feet
at the ocean’s edge.
First light fills the sea.
Sable brushes
against sky.
Ebony ripples
topped
by pale whitecaps.
Still,
the sea is monotonously calm.
One small wave
lands at my feet.
Clouds fall into horizon.
Sky grows lavender
and pale azure,
flaunts charcoal clouds.
Rain
comes.
I
walk.
East,
stirring of orange glow.
By my right shoulder,
moon peers through clouds.
Sandpipers descend
from
wherever they spend the night.
Feast on
tiny shoreline organisms.
Nimbly avoid
the sweep of waves.
Race forward
and back
from water’s edge.
Skim across the sand
in a motley crew,
in a ballet of
choice
&
fate.
Now,
Bach’s major chords.
Lemon, rose, violet commingle,
create
a path to the horizon.
Clouds consume rising mist.
West light expands.
Sun capers
in cloud mountain peaks,
rises from the sea.
Indigo clouds stretch,
unveil coral cumulous,
so fluffy
I could eat them.
Cloud column rises from sea,
lays against green sky.
Thunder crashes,
booms.
Lightening cracks open sky.
Heat leaps from sand.
Moist
heat
rises,
cocoons me.
North turquoise sky,
dusky blue ocean.
I turn south,
purple horizon,
salmon undercoat,
azure and lemon overlay.
Creation
every day.
11/14/2013
Geese call
southward flight
early sun glistens
on shorn corn fields
stalks short and gold.
This quiet moment
I sip coffee,
ignore the day’s work,
wish for flight.
3/14/2015
Geese call
early morn
turquoise sky.
Returning
ready to
dance courtship
exchange vows
renew life.
under florescent lights
thoughts cease
fold themselves
into paper airplanes
flown by
careless children
then
forgotten
12/2/2014
above the knoll
of weapons
pale full moon
strangled gently
Now comes the princess, fair and fine
Playing near pond fringed with grasses
Saying, “Watch this ball that is mine.”
I watch her as she passes.
The golden ball fallen in pond is my chance
It bounces, drops down muddy bottom stuck in the water
On my lily pad, I jump and do a waltz and dance
It is my own girl, I have waited for her.
“Come on back, come on back, take me with you.”
She hastens away, skirts flying behind, laughing in delight
I jump from the pond, leaping my green frog body fro and to
My princess when she hears me, exclaims in fright,
“Oh father, oh father, I know not this frog.”
I say, “My fair lady, you promised!” The king
proclaims sternly, “A promise is kept, even one from a bog.”
I ate from her plate, but she flung me away from her pillow. I went ping!
My request for the pillow denied
As princess and prince now we will abide.
And behind me
Still lavender blue night framed in my rear view mirror
I leave bare branch trees
Dark lines against my treasured city
Ahead wild seagulls whirl and dip
Angels of the refuse
Of our existence
3/24/2014