Monthly Archives: November 2018

Sonnet #273

In morning twilight, the moon shone bright beyond

the whisper clouds, a purple blue, a brightest white

I thought to snap a picture of the moon, but I

had left my phone inside the house, the moment gone

I knew, and would be broken if I went and came

again out here, beneath the orange tree; the range

of twilight colors, the shift of clouds, all changed,

the grandeur of this moment moon will never be the same


(At my mother’s house, last week we scoured old albums

She said she was amazed at all the pictures with no one

in them, monuments and mountains, wasted ink, common

for now the things she wanted most were family, her children.)


The greatest meal I ever had, I think, was a glass of cool water

On a warm day in summer. Life’s beauty lies in such simple affairs.

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Sonnet #272

The dead leaves and dirty ground will keep the roots

So leave the mess where it is found until the spring

Be patient, for until the music of the frosts unstrings

We never know what swell of song will stomp the boots

What keening winds will come, these broken ruins

Will bear the worst of all these songs to come

And leave beneath the grotesque twisted bones

The sweet of green wrapped up inside the cambium

Be gentle, be patient, leave all the leaves to blow

Allow the stalks to wilt upon the ground

Where fireflies root and salamander stow

Until the rise of sun and heat comes round

There the worms devour and there the toads:

A messiness is living when the symphony resounds!

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Sonnet #271

The stone fruits in autumn are an exhaustion

I can understand: They pushed so hard

Into the light, reached every root until exertion

swelled into the bloom of life, a hundred new words

hang from every limb for weeks, and then they break

The wind blows, the dry times come, the storms

And the sun, itself, yawns apart, leans back;

What else can be done but decay a little, let the worms

among the fallen leaves, and let the leaves

we lost become the soil we eat, devouring self

And devouring those we welcome as thieves;

From the outside, we are sleeping, that’s what they tell

But what no one sees is roots reaching, ever creating

The stonefruits and I look snowstorm still, roots reaching

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Sonnet #270

The line between nature and man is easy

There is a trail along the ground and mowers

Come to clear the path, but tractors

Don’t travel into trees, so there, a line you see


It follows us home if we let it, where the line

could be anywhere, hidden behind a fence

In empty flower pots where anything’s presence

Is allowed – spiders and ants and weeds, it’s fine


Let the line fall over the night sheets, where dreams

and possibilities wrestle in the dark, wild places

kept and unkempt, a hidden shadow kingdom

where the eyes look out from darkness, faces

unknown by even us, carry this unknown seams

loosely in the daylight, be vessels for feral graces


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Sonnet #269

All the elders come together, all the young men
and women come, gather where the kings
will stand above the dais, where they ring
the new season of the lord, and we can bend

the ears of heaven with our sacrifices, our prayers
At the very top of lungs, where no king shouts
back and is heard above the din of our voices out
loud, where all the songs we sing are greater

Than all the noise of kings, the cymbals and din
of commanding voices, where no gunfire quells
the fury of the voices, we can shout the bullets down
We can shout them all down, where all is not well
And shout and sing and shout until the bells
of heaven are all that’s greater, and rings the crowns

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Sonnet #268

My body is here; my mind is not
I get lost on the old trails of memory
Lost in the books that I carry and that carry
Me in return, lost in the way I wish what
I could do to make things better for us
And what I want to do to make my hands
Still, my head still, to try and fulfill plans
And finish what I started: to leave no mess
When I am done. My body is here, but I
Am an energy vibrating in time’s shadow
I will never be here with you, never just lie
In the darkness, where the wood shadows
My face and we can pause together as I
Am an energy, moving and dreaming and off I go

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