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’
is the rhythmic, plaintiff cry
marking that place
where shore and sea
precipitously meet.
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)…
Tiny bird inside his breast pocket you are like the young three-footed buck and squirrel laying in the rain with a broken hip Science cannot heal all should we have left you to die? Young buck once jumped with a grace man never could squirrel – laughed with a zest unmatched How does your heart…
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…
The day’s hot breath lingered forcing fireflies out of the grass. Soundlessly they rose – rising blink-ing rising – pausing in the trees, slowly charting their way ever upward. Occasionally we’d catch one in an old jar, while grownups sat in lawn chairs and chatted. Mostly we just ran around small, thin arms o u…
Unable to reconcile a relative of the onion growing among grape vines…
Fascinating – high in the sky, flying free (with a safety line that might break and then again maybe not) – an exhilarating place to be. A flyer of kites must have faith to let go and toss it into the wind so it can rise to great heights. To know when to reel it…