Life singers,

Composers of the morning song,

Allow me faith to sing

Tunes cradled when the wind

Whistles down hillside.

The dawn comes eager as a two-year child;

Good days I am that child.

It's heaven's breathing stirs cotton clouds,

Lets me sing louder still.

When trees sway to the turning of our planet,

Bending from their hips, limbs over head,

Their sensual...

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2 houses over

past jealous backyards

brilliant sun bathes their backdoor.

Dalmatian gallops and rolls, cuts like a quarter horse

lathers its spots with sun.

Morning sun shirks neighbor in between

til all the leaves left on his boughs

decide to tumble.

I’m denied the sun by too close neighbor to my right

-- who diligently pries acorns fallen

deep between shar...

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Cutting only one intentional direction

I slice back & forth across New Jersey’s merger.

City flows to suburb flows to farmland makes me

want to nonstop drive

but only back & forth, to & from, never knowing

destination, only questing destiny.

Not troglodyte not hunter, the nomad I

can’t leave the highwayed plain.

I flow to breakfast memories: blueberries,

griddle cak...

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WHY SITTING MATTERS

The chance to let the world go on ahead,

at least catch up and show me what I’ve passed.

Bigger windows frame the outside for me

Broad stool supports my wanton stillness.

Blood flows slow like honey, bottom of jar

stored on October morning's outer sill.

I brush away the laggard flies, not yet

knowing the cold. Like writing verse unplanned.

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I wake up scared, afraid to face the stairs.

Your smile reminds me we’ve but one story.

I worry if the shower’s water's up

my nose, down my throat, fills my chest, drowns me.

You laugh: do not bathe standing on your head.

Ah, yet razor risks my neck, my chin.

Your hand soft on my face says just don’t shave.

My double sigh now shuffles back to bed,

beneath chi...

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I try to understand but do not know

what science explains: physics

or optics or geometrics or plain old

straight-line-is-the-shortest-difference.

Moon’s crescent bowl holds pure

white milk, defeating gravity’s pull

that levels water, that lets me

understand emotional truth of balance.

I wonder how the sun can pasteurize

the moon since I can’t see the sun.

Li...

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WORK DAY ENDS

The work day leaves around me.

I do not share the rush to cars or beers or childcare pickup.

I do not need to slice the everyday’s hot cord

that doesn’t fuel my energy, my need

to prove I can - mostly to myself.

I let the walker-talkers move

somewhat shy of stampede down halls

too long for anything but gale-strong drafts,

up hills too steep for anything but...

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