From “SAE It Isn’t So”
You both must decide which path to believe:
Details that destroy or feelings that bloom.
If feelings you choose, the details must leave;
If details you choose, ’tis your love you doom.
Her blue green eyes softly comfort my soul
Unabashed laughs come out in a burst
My body absorbs them and I feel whole
Peace, passion, and love all strive to be first.
Waves of beauty appear bright here and there
The longer I look the deeper I feel
My eyes and my heart have found ways to share
I see her beauty, I look but don’t steal.
Although I cannot be her beloved
Merrimac is a woman to be loved.
Levitating brevitating hesitating meditating medicating investigating prevaricating necessitating fee-fi-fo-fum-itating resuscitating luxuritating necessessessessitating relaxitating relativitating gravitating singularitating ting ting.
Gray clouds softly engulf the moon
Darkness emerges from the night,
Croaks say the pond frogs will mate soon
Cool air pushes out the last light.
From bush to bush around the pond
The bullfrogs sing their ancient song,
They blast their throats and look to see
A red winged black bird in his tree.
From “At’l Be The Day”
It was going to rain all afternoon
Just to be forgotten by early eve,
When lovers walk under Fall’s golden moon
Creating kisses that make souls believe.
“By the Canal”
Warehouses line the canal
Facades perching lurching over the tree tops
Spring green leaves scatter bright light
White winged birds swoop through branches.
Over Herndon Pond
Canada geese coast
In the clear cool breeze.
Gray webbed feet flashing
Splashing, a shake of feathers free floating.
From a bough glimmering soft in the woods
The blue heron glides to the bank
Sleek, thin necked, white streaky
She statues in the sandy shoals.
Unafraid, more geese descend
The heron stands saber still until
Splash, chew, silence, statue.
Goose barking bounces
Through the gaggle
The green feathered mallards paddle to the side
A bark, a squawk
A goose darts up followed by the others.
The pattern lies beneath the snow
Buried pipes scar the pasture
A much parked spot shines brown
There, too chewn by a cow:
These reasons you know.
The shadow of a woodland elf
Bustles by, a moment out of phase,
A rustle from whispers
A blur beyond sound.
You read my pattern
See my reasons known and half-known
From man to animal to man.
You sigh when you see
The pasture hearth beneath the December moon,
Me howling like a solstice loon.