Everything is more these days
thank god the sky is staying
blue
now perforated
by baby jays learning how
to jay the world
a cacophony of birds
a shadow
in the underbrush
apostrophated
bark
towhee nuthatch
I don’t miss much
and there are starlings
gone to rob a nest
everything is more
these days
the less
is so much
less
These are quiet shards
calmly and cooly collected
no more shock
no reaction at all
another drink poured
by a steady hand
mastery in a sense
but no reward
perfection
is not lovable
what a stupid
thought that was
Day moon
a day dream real
as those far snow-capped
mountains so real
somewhere else
not here
pallid as the ghost
of the grafted plum
that came up just beyond
the stump
white-blossomed
unlike its predecessor
I didn’t know a tree
could just spring up like that
these are strange days
this whole day moon a portent
a portal it must mean something
hanging there meaning
something
irresistible as a half
-formed thought
a blank to fill in
to the sun’s brazenness
a hint a suggestion
attractive as what might
be but isn’t
yet
This the vent
alarm that
something else
it got late early
with a death overnight
with so few windows
here it’s hard to
get oriented
but the sun
came up
and someone else
took that spot
Even though and still
the trees are making new leaves
don’t act as if you expect it
you’ll ruin the surprise
look even now they are waiting
for the perfect moment
avert your eyes
don’t look
until they shout
their green shouts
Slow day into
slow night
the sun never
really did settle
on a weather pattern
and in the garden
under the hooped row
half open for venting
some cat’s paws
have punctuated
the soil this all
a song of passage
it comes from inside
this very house
percussive
in its settling
too percussive
too insistent
I went out to take
a good look
at the chimney
and startled
the flicker there
it flickered away
the feathers on
its under-wing
as pink
as any sunset
This a betrayal
how quick the shift
the same sun
breaking through
the same curtains
one day I wake
the next I can’t
clouded by aches
drowning in
myself
and certain
I’ll never
be warm again
and the dog
giving me
that animal
courtesy
afforded to
the good
and sick
avoidance
a good call
really
when I said
betrayal
this wasn’t
what I meant
A thin cloud drawn
across the night sky
a cloud
not a jet trail
not as precise
above it the moon
below it
stars
in some celestial
equation
so enamored
am I with this
idea of divination
two of the stars
are traveling
in opposite directions
jetliners
both going
and both leaving
but I wasn’t looking
for something
so obvious
so keen am I
on division
always wanting
to know just
how many times
a thing can go
then wanting
to know
the remainder
This night a cave
correctly sized
it blankets
not engulfs
there are tenors
to a darkness
some satiating
some stark
what I mean
is there is ample
room in this
starless cradle
and I sleep
dead center
given no other
choice
than expansion
and dreaming
dreams of manifest
destiny
a silly word
with few exceptions
allowable only
in soft focus
a coin for luck
that sinks in still water
even I will still
permit myself this
I read your strange
words exquisite
humming-bird-
like airy
in their armor not
grounded
all restless
sheen and oiled
whisper and light
metallic feathered
fusible and false
I know this is not love
it is envy
of your heart
that loves
and loves
others
so tangibly
so tangibly
have you written
its racing–
OPTIONAL POETRY 