to ward off
who knows what
i buy a dozen pencils
to be armed
just in case

***
***

covered quietly
by falling snow
in the woods
along with everything else
the deer’s remains

***
***

with three running lights
burning through the night
our neighbor’s house shipshape
on it journey
to tomorrow

-Gusts no. 33 spring/summer 2021 

***
***

not once has any of them 
signaled ‘goodbye’
when walking away…
yet they keep coming back ;
my deer family 

***

***

upstairs sounds 
of my cat running around
and caterwauling …
don’t I know these forces 
at work in us all?

Gusts no. 32   fall/winter 2020 

***
***

a lonely stretch
of road
with no passing 
from one dream 
into another

***

***

thistledown
in the air
as I begin the hike
wondering when
I’ll see you again 

gusts no. 31    spring/summer 2020 

***
***

I’m not even looking 
for anything
second time out 
to the empty 
mailbox 

***

***

the world 
may be falling 
apart 
yet my skittish cat
settles on my lap 

gusts no.30  fall/winter 2019 

***
***

only a dream
yet so not me
to drive full speed
right through 
a STOP sign 

***
***

room by room
our house
undergoing KonMari-
in an easy chair
i drift off

gusts  no.29     spring/summer 2019


***

***

even if I knew better 
i might follow
the swallowtail
from one milkweed
to another…

***

***

our evening walk
into the dusk
and silence…
the hollowness
of a mourning dove’s call

***

***

what have I done
and can such a thing
be undone…
a doe waits and watches 
expectantly for me

gusts no. 28   fall/winter 2018

***

***

these years
listening to the wind
in the trees …
where has my love
left me?

***

***

the work and gifts
of this world,
whether I do anything 
or not,
summer stars 

gusts no.27   spring/summer 2018


***

***

waves leaving the sound

of stones against stones

this lifelong mystery

of trying to become 

myself…

gusts no.26   fall/winter 2017


***

***

one of my childhood drawings 
of what looks like a factory 
next to a cemetery,
as if i knew something 
way back then…


***

***

below where the tree 

broke off

some branches 

carry on

in the wind

gusts no. 25    spring /summer 2017


***

***

another reminder 
in this writing life
that it just may be
I’ll never get organized 
in this life


***

***

this resignation 
that even spilled tea 
can bring up our need 
for a different 
bigger house


*** 

***

lying there 
at the end of the bed
my cat shows me
what being fully content
is all about 

gusts no. 24  fall/winter 2016



***

***

a scatter of feathers
under the big pine
in the cemetery …
piecing together again 
my memories 


***

***

reading an old letter
I wrote to my parents
from Mexico…
another part of me
gone with them 

gusts no. 23  spring/summer 2016

***

***

before we were here 
the centuries 
already became eons,
the gravity of light on water 
falling into dark



***

***

old friends
and flowers
faithful each year, 
the smile of knowing 
across the years 


***

***

cloud gazing…
I thought about it 
but wasn’t sure 
what I’d do 
with an empty mind 

gusts no.22   fall/winter 2015 


***

***

in the dark
these ruminations 
of what I think
others think 
I should be doing…


***

***

it had been years 
but then just like that
an email shows up silently, 
the way a death arrives 
from far away …


***

***

more redundant snow…
time to let goof this day,
to sleep and take up 
the life of dreams 
and nothingness 

gusts no. 21  spring/summer 2015 

***

***

I am getting older 
with these trees
but can still remember 
as a child 
I really loved old things 


***

***

the time I’ve spent looking 
for her slipper 
outweighs any good cause-
any love lost 
requires such searching 

gusts no.20   fall/winter 2014  

***

***

the logistics
not to mention the expense
has turned out ideal
this trip around the world
while lying in bed 


***

***

I’ve found a place
this rainy January day
to be alone by choice
with some emptiness 
that sustains me…


***

***

around the bonfire
conversation focused
on the past…
I bring woodsmoke 
to bed

gusts no. 19   spring/summer 2014 


***

***

in this last chapter
the cast of hundreds 
in my dream
without my knowing 
a single one


***

***

I’ve heard it enough
to know well
it is not a happy word, 
yet she just said “whatever”
with a refreshing nice new tone…


***

***

quickening my pace
as the rain picks up
I reach an all-out run…
fully drenched I slow back down 
to a walk again…

gusts no.18    fall/winter 2013 



***

***

at the outdoor theater
my attention shifts 
to a few wild geese
sounding through 
the Shakespeare…

***
***

yet another message
to be found out here, 
the plains town 
football field 
without a scoreboard 

gusts no. 16   fall/winter 2012 

***

***

so much 
not happening 
the way it’s supposed to;
not the least, our cat
circles the empty dish 

***

***

pulling the sheet
and covers back
I get in and lie down
prepared for the theater 
of my dreams… 

gusts no.15   spring/summer 2012 

***

***

everyone gathered 
in a circle under the trees-
between readers 
in the microphone
the wind 

***

***

summer night 
in a pile of rubble
the house’s scent,
a hundred years 
just like that…

***

***

the grass gone brown
this summer of my 60th,
that much is clear…
now, to reclaim myself
in this long-term drought 

gusts no. 14   fall/winter 2011  


***

***

so many tangles 
in the snowy thicket
the sparrows go through…
it’s the kind of place
my past resides 


***

***

were I an old dog
with a happy grin
and even some naughty habits
it seems my family
might find me more sympathetic 


***

***

passing by so close
and quietly…
it’s as if the dark permits 
the deer and me
a mutual sense of safety 

gusts no.13  spring/summer 2011


***

***

just as dutifully
as the cat 
brought the mouse
I remove it
before my wife can see 


***

***

in the attic
to find things to get rid of,
but the rain on the roof
lulls me to the joy
in each thing I find


***

***

inches away from me
in bed, 
yet in my dream 
I’m on the phone to tell her 
I’m going for a bike ride 

gusts no. 12   fall/winter 2010 



***

***

the moon 
after the rain 
moldering leaves-
not that I ever could 
make sense of my life 


***

***

I ask him
if he believes 
everything he writes…
yes, he says, God has said
it is all true


***

***

drawn to that page
in the paper as if 
some great secret was there; 
to see the age that 
everyone left their life 

gusts no. 11  spring/summer 2010 


***

***

out in the woods a relic
with a rusty chrome bumper
detached…
it becomes my cross to bear 
back home



***

***

it’s just
three little words 
but she stops 
crying 
and we move on 


***

***

the deer still finds 
some reason to ford
the river swollen with rain,
how content I am 
rarely fording anything 

gusts no.10   fall/winter 2009 


***

***

snow falling 
in the dark woods 
like endless thoughts
there is no way out 
of who I am 


***

***

from Trinidad and Tobago 
his smile irresistible
and within mere moments 
he warmly shakes my hand 
again, and again 


***

***

a horse rolling 
in the sunny snow, 
now, that will be the image 
to carry today 
for tomorrow

gusts no.9   spring/summer 2009 


***

***

frisky as all get out,
her boyfriend smiles 
at me-
a knowing smile
I once knew 


***

***

asked to arrange 
the flowers in a vase 
I put them in any which way –
so glad there are some things 
which can’t go wrong


*** 

***

it’s her keys again, 
the search now
in its third day…
would that we might find 
some of our love lost as well 

gusts no.8   fall/winter 2008


***

***

thinking again 
I should do everything 
just as my wife wants…
these cycles of new snow
becoming old and melting away 


***

***

I leave it
unwashed, 
her fragile glass 
like others 
I’ve broken before 


***

***

I ask him about his day, 
what he did, 
if he got enough sleep 
and in response 
a soulful look and purring 

gusts no. 7   spring/summer 2008 


***

***

in the sun
a fine sifting of snow
blows off the roof-
betrayed once
she never forgets


***

***

how can one relate
to one season 
more than another…
this deep and clear sense of autumn 
stretching back to childhood


***

***

across our bed
my wife reminds me again, 
that love letter she found, 
one I wrote long ago
with someone else in mind

gusts no. 5   spring/summer 2007


***

***

in the park
someone approaches me,
they have found God
and want to tell me
all about it


***

***

in a silent moment
of honesty
I see my children,
the way they protect me
from myself 


***

***

it is a small event
at the end of the workday
this can of beer
yet without doubt my life
has become such small events 

gusts no.4   fall/winter 2006 


***

***

sun on new snow
fills the field
with a certain blindness
unable to see you now
as I did back then


***

***

my daughter’s hand 
reaches out to receive
the plate with bagel…
how silently I mouth 
‘thank you’ for her

gusts no.3   spring/summer 2006


***

***

lying here, eyes closed
in denial
until I get up for the day
mostly forgetting
that new ceiling crack 


***

***

my wife says
I can’t change, 
I’m too happy as I am
as soon as the snow is gone
it starts to snow again 


***

***

not even 8 a.m. and 
already I’m tired 
of my little family-
thank goodness for the outside
peace of trees 

gusts no.2    fall/winter 2005


***

***

watching my wife
train the puppy
the truth sinks in…
how much I’ve resisted
over all these years 

gusts no. 1   spring/summer   2005