another day
avoiding it
the sun
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
summer night-
in a pile of rubble
the house’s scent
 
 
 **
 
 
 
between poems
at the microphone
the wind…
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
another reminder
the blossoming tree
with thorns
 
 
 **
 
 
 
sun on new snow-
a chickadee
repeats its name!
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
in an opening
just right
Orion’s Belt
 
 
 
**
 
 
 
 the way
the waterfall flows
into being frozen
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 one generation
pushes another
in a swing
 
 
** 
 
 
 
autumn again-
after everything
I pour her tea
 
 
 
 **
 
 
each time
out to the U-haul
holding hands
 
 
 
** 
 
 
another day
a few birds fly
across the sunset
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
outside the meeting
  back and forth
   the sprinkler
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
 
 
stuck inside
the dog gets up
and turns around
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
autumn nightfall
dropping my son off
for something else
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
where I sit
on my usual bench
remains of a nut
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
on the trail again…
walking deeper
into myself
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
after our visit
in quiet, the things
I forgot to say…
 
 
 
 **
 
 
Halloween-
to a simple question
my life story
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
first snow gone-
this steady need
to practice
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
 
 
I choose one-
a roomful of chairs
without people
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
 
crickets…
my eyes closed
to the day
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
lunar eclipse-
back inside something I did
or didn’t do
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
letting her
walk all over me
ladybug
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
back home
these trees I knew
in all their seasons
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
another full moon
my checkbook
still unbalanced
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
snow filling
our tracks into the woods
by heart
 
 
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
undefended:
in the cold rain
their snow fort
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
long wait alone
in the parking lot…
a dog in the next car
 
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
keeping quiet
the day’s last light
on new grass
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
she wanders away…
her snail disembarks
the matchbox truck
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
alone
in the middle of a crowd
someone I knew
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
always takes his time
the custodian watches
the floor dry
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
peepers
my daughter whispers
something she knows
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
reading her letter-
suddenly aware of the look
on my face
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
from room to room
on the Clue board
a tiny spider
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
by the ocean…
again filled
with emptiness
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
reading into it
as much as i can
my life
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
a few floors down
in another building
someone else looks out
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
so much we have…
yet between us too
an emptiness
 
 
 
 
**
 
 
 
 
a few snow flakes
entering the woods
silence
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
cold dusk
my thoughts pass through
a crow flying by
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
boardwalk-
we go to one end
then the other
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
the plant in the window
has gone everywhere
it can
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
spring frost-
the park cannon aimed
at the church
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
in the empty room
two quiet types
father and son
 
 
 
 
**
 
 
 
 
despite
the development
deer path
 
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
a flat tire
near my father’s grave
I stop to visit
 
 
 
 
**
 
 
 
in love
bicycling
into the snowstorm
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
the spread of stars
wind moves the snow
from where it fell
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
between bites
from the apple
he stares…
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
lingering in bed…
the ceiling has no
answers
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
flea market-
the Rubik’s cube
already solved
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
snow fall-
my daughter asks where
we are going…
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
left and right
he follows the way
of his kicked stone
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
winter stars-
our meeting
un-arranged
 
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
wondering …
will the squirrel find
half of what it buried?
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
 
most of the rain
not falling
on me
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
mower won’t start
busy as a bee
a bee
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
straight out
of a dream
another day
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
steady rain
a pickle
in the parking lot
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
the dates
on the coins
I give up…
 
 
 
 **
 
 
spring
removing the neighbors
from view
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
the chainlink fence
runs into
high water
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
the crow
in me
gets a response
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
the habit of looking
where it used to be
– the mirror
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
garden walk-
she checks herself
in the pond
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
taking off my clothes
my heart
closer…
 
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
 
 
alone in the waiting room
checking the plant
for reality
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
droning plane fades out…
how little difference it makes
what age I am
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
my child asks
what keeps the moon up?
you do, I reply
 
 
 
 **
 
 
walking
through more
– my life
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
being there
in the woods
a tree falls
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
cross country runner
no one ahead
or behind
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
each
of the rain drops
that touch her…
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
mountaintop:
giving back
each breath
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
 
free spirits
a year later
they return
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
 
the way
rain takes
the mountain
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
for my son:
lifting a stone
to see
 
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
watering their plants
seeing their house
without them
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
rehearsing
the reading
to no one
 
 
 
 
**
 
 
 
 
the clouds
calligraphy
reads…
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
day break-
from the bread truck’s roof
frost swirls
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
dreary day…
jack o’lantern collapsed
on it’s grin
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
crane
on the horizon
holds a cloud
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
at the cliff edge
my whole life
behind me
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
closed-
deep inside
a light
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
under the manhole
the night gives
a gurgle
 
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
after the thriller
the wideness
of bed
 
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 
river bank swallows-
my beer label
peels easily
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
lying in the leaves-
the sun shares the shape
of her corduroys
 
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
the hypnotist
describes her technique…
sound of the stream
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
swallows sweep
through the cemetery
– fresh grave
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
stiff wind-
shadows of things
stretch on the street
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
 
passing me by
in the stillness
a snowmobile
 
 
 
 **
 
 
on the street
a person really happy
about something
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
    no one there
the bus driver
opens the door
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
back and forth
the elephant
weighs a foot
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
sunrise-
yesterday’s footprints
in the snow
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
on a rise
between headstones
a snowman
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
the custodian
brings up
karma

 
 
 
** 
 
 
in a day dream…
I almost
walk into her 
 
 
** 
 
 
end of its first day:
the shiny garbage can
all beat up
 
 
 
**
 
 
 
morning light-
the strangers have become
familiar
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
high up
against a big cloud
specks of birds
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
first day-
a student turns the map
every which way
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
daylight savings-
I leave my calendar
a month behind
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
in the way
of a dream
the turtle without a shell
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
overnight snow-
to help the sun
I shovel some
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
glint from a car
a stray thought
of Camelot
 
 
 
 
 **
 
 
time called
wrappers rush by
home plate
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
old wagon
the last load
still there
 
 
 
 **
 
 
 
end of the trail
the world
without humans
 
 
 
** 
 
 
 
 the back road…
one turn after another
more outrageous reds