I drove down the hill
I drove down the hill next to the lake and saw the big timber in mist I nearly cried
The wild places So far away from my tame home Tied my heart
The stones speak to me of the time long ago when the rivers were full
Interpret however you want
I drove down the hill
I drove down the hill next to the lake and saw the big timber in mist I nearly cried
The wild places So far away from my tame home Tied my heart
The stones speak to me of the time long ago when the rivers were full
The Sea
The sea calls me home every day and I don't understand Umanaya calls me and the sand gets in my toes and the breakers are long out into the bars behind them the swells hide the light and the sun boils into the red with the wind in your face burning your cheeks and you feel the done
A Mother and two Daughters
I love hearing them happy Sweetness in the air Like honey in my nose
Like house sparrows singing On the edge of a garden I love the sound, it makes me happy
July 4th
The beer rolls over my tongue before it waves over my mind gently because it's been a long time and everyone is napping
The world is in first gear working to get off the dime from a surprise stop-sign octagonal red
It makes the bog sleepy and that's how I like it the hammock in the garden while the tomatoes try to set fruit
But I don't like why it's sleepy or the knees on the necks of good people
Goddamn I'm Thin
My emotions stretched out drawn around the posts and signs pulling tighter
To bounce with a pop but damnit don't break
Singing
The sapsucker sang at the peak of the roof carelessly ignoring me and most all of humanity only grateful for a high perch
Spring
Spring hasn't sprung but it's getting closer seeds in the ground marks my season sun on the porch and the songs of robins and sparrows
We're all home now, like the old days before cars and in each other's space and I can't stretch my legs enough except
When I haul the lumber to the garden knees in soft soil, dark brown and caked sweat falling off my face bruises on my shoulders
Bare new kiln dried wood smells like work and new things But the bog will eat it over time and until then It will hold back the canary grass While seeds are sewn
February Rain
Glossy faceted lights halogen and filament and led poke and bounce around the gray sky the crystal clear drops clinging to windows are gemstones in the gravel taste of the wind in my nose seasalt
Silk
It happens fast and you don't know it because you're the frog and not the cook
The sled runs downhill like it's on rails but it doesn't cook that way
And the brakes burn acrid ozone in your nose but you crank into the turn
The sky was purple this morning Just a little pink and the glow on the horizon Through the late fall branches stripped bare by the wind
My country is dull yellow and grey now it's the mountains and sound in my ears of rain
The hills are silhouette green and the flooded fields bright Just a little reflection among the ducks of the clouds through false dawn woke by a damp sun
My country is dull yellow and grey now it's the mountains and sound in my ears of rain
My ride bumps along while the caffein flows through my veins And the window refracts and reflects my thoughts as much as the landscape And the flooded fields with their ducks
My country is dull yellow and grey now it's the mountains and sound in my ears of rain
My country is dull yellow and grey now The rain never stops