Leaf it Alone
A poetic reflection: We see them fall, We hear them rustle, We may even feel them brush by our face. Today, as I ate my lunch under the sycamore One…
Category: poetry
Moon Shine
These poetic words came easily the other night. . . Midnight moon face washed by waves of light clouds flashes heat-lightning stars beyond reflecting. . . eyes lifted to the…
A Clearer Path
My poet friend, Jim Gronvold, graciously shares this path of poetry: Clarity Struck by the grace of the simply seen. Colors and shapes of a walk in the wood— a…
Poem of Early Spring
Poem of Early Spring Doors are open Winter left, apparently, by appearances Before a wedding I officiated the groom’s younger son was digging in the dirt in his suit silent,…
Contentment
Now and then I post a poem–or hang a poem on this post. This one was composed, composted, in one of my favorite sanctuaries: Point Reyes National Seashore in Northern…
The Mind Has Mountains
Woke up to 22 degrees and light, silent snow. Living beauty in the mountains. “Wild air, world-mothering air, Nestling me everywhere …” Found my old crumbling copy of Gerard Manley…
Life Now–Not When
My friend Jim Gronvold has published a string or strand or stream of books full of something we call “poems,” though that word (like the word “word” itself) doesn’t quite…
Walt Whitman at 200
Whitman was born 200 years ago this month (May 31, 1819). Today’s column in the Citizen-Times (page one; page two) presented his resounding voice as it needs to be heard, calling…
