WRITER, GARDENER, ARTIST, COACH
January 24, 2016
A harvest moon is rising on my breakfast plate
a fried yolk loosed from its horizon.
I hardly taste the onions
while reading of saints
but making noises under the table,
or so I think—
until my bird wakes up from all the racket
and says Hello! in reply.
I chuckle out...
December 6, 2015
The cat’s eyes are looking outside, shiny as fishbowls.
Like bowls they never blink
when she’s looking away like this.
When she sits with her back to me
her fur twitches.
My fingers don’t touch her
and she watches me without her eyes.
I’m as puffed with impatience
as a goldfis...
What did you call it the other week
when you started seeing
the edge of your vision
sharpen into shapes
like potters’ wheels
and wall maps
It was like the flicker of afternoon sunlight
you could only see
when you looked away
You kept trying to roust it up
as if it...
The hummingbird with his little monkey head
turns his needle beak this way and that
threading droplets onto his body
feet on the branch too small to see
I put my feet on pink concrete
watching my shoes pace the labyrinth
maybe too intimate for business folk
but not that way f...
The Cat's Eyes
Maybe not Just a Horse Show