I talk you talk we'll talk


June 2016






I’m driving home,


Looking out for

Deer whom I

Might then drive



Yellow center

Lines with white

On either side,


Bushes and trees

Farther off still

Line the road,

Marching back

In layers of green


And black that

Make up the

Horizon, too,

Which I see in

Front of me


Then—I hadn’t

Thought of

This—the moon

Rises in my

Direction (that is,


The way I’m

Going) behind

Dark verdure



Half-disc bright


Startling the

Sleepy countryside

Into becoming,

As if in an

Astral spell, a


Rising plain of

Backlit silhouettes


Sentinel at night

Ascends like

An ancient mother

Ship leaving

The quiet earth

Where it has

Hid, now taking

Its watchkeepers



Maybe, too,

A matriarchal

Ark as well, bearing

DNA of flora

And fauna,



In chromosomes

Of mitochondria


Lifting all toward

Freedom of

The Earth, carrying

Our errant

Molecules through

To what we say

Is outer space:


Passing other

Spheres of cosmic



Asteroids and

Planetoids and

More substantial

Yet nascent



Denizens of

Rock and fire


Cradles for


Entering nebulae,

The vessel-charge

At last and

With a knowing

Satellite’s prophetic



Diffuses organic

Atoms inside



Stellar capacity,

Static potential

Wanting alien



To incite and

Render systems

Viable for carbon



And so


Our lives together

Evolve into

The future of





The death-toll rose

From ten to forty-one


Was there a plan

In the attack that

Foreign blood would

Mix with that of



Insane strategy

To kill those first who

Are not involved


The cheat of

Terrorists whose

Cowardice will not

Face military forces


This aim makes a

Target out of me, and

Certainly I can get



I must hope that

Death by misdirected

Amateurs will not

Find me today


And grieve with those

Slain in anonymity,

Because the killers

Don’t care


Who we are

Almost Heaven

Almost Heaven

(phrase from artist John Denver)


Kanawha, Nicholas,

Greenbrier counties


Earth gives way

To water and to fire

In the anger of the



Prometheus surrenders

To the whim of



Touched with the

Power of Poseidon

And sport-attitude

Of Zeus


We reach over gods

Toward better



Praying for the

Tendril touch that

Holds the earth

And sky


And all the heavens


Because on land and

Other West Virginia

Lives, an ocean’s

Upheaval falls


Drowning, splitting

The ground on

Which we alive yet

Strive to stand



West Virginia Flooding Kills 24; Search and Rescue Efforts Continue

Psalm 46

Psalm 46


A new world comes

And some would say

It’s here


By your hand, we might

Live in better days


The images we make

For politics or



Are wrung through

With shiny fakery


I think our new day

Will arrive,




When we learn to say

I love you to the ground

And to the air


And to the wind we

Cannot see but truly

Feel and have:


When we learn the

Value of unseen things,


We can say I love you

To each other


Then your new day is





Walking through the house

Was strange: your

House that burned, now

Skeletal and



Beams and cross-beams,

Bannister askew—rooms



In neutral shades of earth

And ash,


An appliance here or there;


For all the blackened parts

And where textures are

Impressed with soot and

Shadowed particles,


The house we see

Could be


Rising from the ground

As new:


Save for a generation’s

Life, now endowed only

By memory as legacy,


Which I think you saw

Upon the bones of

Your remembered home,


As we all walked through

Love is There

Love is There

(at any age, on any page)





If I look up,

will I see it?


Out?  If I go

outside, will I

be it?


Around the

world, where no

bound can

keep it?


Or deep inside,

where when I

hurt I hide it?


Love is there.

It’s everywhere.


Reach out;

we’ve earned

it.  Teach it, and

we’ll learn it.


Everyone of

Earth and




love from

birth to

build upon.



Pins in Dolls

Pins in Dolls


I’m tired, and I wish

I could rest well


But pains like pins

Keep me awake


I wish I could resolve

These; I wish the

Witch or brujo


Would pull these

Unearthly prickles





Who calls dawn


One bird, two birds

I hope it’s at least two


No one should have

To call the new day

All alone


At such a time, there

Should be company


And, if it works out,

Friendship through

The morning


That’s how I’d like to

Start the day

With someone near


To know me now

When the day begins

Failing Night

Failing Night


Just after five—

I have not been asleep


Pain shoots through

My leg, a single line

Of nerve


As if a wire was pushed

Through inside


Then something threw

A supernatural switch

Tripping a low current

Of too-warm, electric


Sting without



Pulsing through tired

Muscle and protesting



Having surrendered

Day’s labors into

Aspiration’s night of

Negligent awareness

Barely keeping guard


Letting go of awake

To turn into dream


In hope to re-knit and

Repair stretched

Measures in the body

And the mind


It’s a cycle that’s

Supposed to work


Why then is pain

Ruining what I’ve made


Not fair


I want to rest then rise

With good, hale

Consciousness beneath

The skin

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