Who made you king?
Do you terrorize the neighborhood
in retaliation for your abandonment?
Twenty pounds of arrogance
straining to exit the storm drain
gangster cat
Your slovenly swagger down the street
means nothing to me
Watch out
Some day I might tame you.
Je vois une femme mais, I cannot see what she sees (sitting alone dans le jardin)…
How far? I ask (is the ocean) whenever we are somewhere the ocean is not – often comes the reply “not far..” (Perhaps a few hour’s or a day’s drive) ‘Not far’ is a distance measured on the scent of a breeze something palpable in the atmosphere in fog rolling across the land ‘Not far’…
Sun’s first rays pick at the blinds teasing them open just a little then its long fingers stretch across the room and tickle my face Outside the world moves in slow motion gulls doze on a diamond sea whose only movement is a ripple as it turns over in its sleep A few birds lazily…
Driving into the neighborhood tonight rain lightly falling, two fawns nestled in the common area lingering in the moisture-laden darkness A few curves away two adult deer ran alongside my car for some distance before leaping ‘cross the road and on to the creek The rain finally came grand thunder, lightning, hail (and power outage)…
After reaching the waterfront she settled on the old concrete bulkhead next door I at the end of the dock Maisie rested against my hip as Fox and I regarded each other from a suitable distance A few water birds passed lazily overhead but did not disturb And so we sat ignoring, and wondering about…
Against the antique oak rocker in the alcove leans a needlepoint begun decades ago (18th century American primitive re-created in my hand and style with woolen yarns and carefully selected stitches) Cart roads lead from the ‘big’ house, past out buildings and wild vines heavy with grapes (Norton?) – down at the river, a sailing…