the best fishing trip to the cabin
and we never went fishing,

a torrential down pour.

it rained for 3 days, the electricity

went out and we had charcoal, barbecued
on the porch.

a candle and a lantern.
there were batteries and a radio.

we smoked a joint,
drank beer and we talked
about the the stars
and the care and release of fish.

listened to music...


...an hour before sunrise
I took my fishing pole
and headed down to the river
where the ripples and rapids
mimic modern life

sunrise lit the sky on fire
and slowly off the river the mist rose

mingled into sky

and I spread my brother's ashes in the river
and every river flows to the sea.

(love you, Dean)

It is almost strange

the nurse who caught me remains

a beautiful bird

leaves loosen from limbs
and the smell of apples sweetens the air

I follow you to the top, to the peak. You  laugh and I know
we are for each other in this life,

despite the weather, the path, the season.

The whole way in I thought about how courage is a ring,
and I found it on the hike

what does the utterer give to the prayer?

Spend this Summer too between your fingers.
corn-gold, combed hair.
Only your stains were left painted on the sand, where your body once stood like a Cypress.
But another time will come.
When the sea will postpone a crystal spring.
And the sea -- the Morning, ice cold, is buried alive under your foot

until Spring comes to bring warmth.

-GZ, 1986

I love harshly,
in the thicket with sword
I will not yield,
I'll be your shoulder, your shield