The thaw begins with a drip,
builds to a roar, subsides to sunlight
prisms playing over every surface

illuminating still-wet velvet wings
maroon and yellow, neon blue
pseudo-bark underneath.

In the clear-cut, pink fireweed
pierces a sky alive with souls
reveling in their last year on earth

sampling nectar with newly curled
tongues while summer degrades
to fall, burrowing in the cool

damp cord of fir put up for winter
awakening in spring, tasting summer
before the reprieve, too soon over

time come to fold
battered wings, to slip free
of this mourning cloak and rise.

He follows
my topography
like a disciple
tracing contour lines
seeking
heaven within
he is the rapture
his devoted hands
take me there.

It is the June of no summer
misty margins shift
gray to white-blind
the view is winter
the aftertaste bitter
in a perfumed sea
this shrine
both lovely
and disconnected
serenely denies
the fog’s lies

all is quiet
the Western front
sullenly submits
to relentless
willful weather
I listen only
to the birds
conjure storms
of wisdom
await the lightening
of oppressive skies

Cormorants face east
to blood-rimmed clouds
holding the morning hostage

they await silver
resonance humming
through weighted bone

wings angled toward
the radiant blindness
of an eternally rising sun.

To face the fear of being liquid, I go under, float the drift.  Leave the boat behind, no worries.  I am in no hurry     to school with the rest, colorful parrot fish, at home in the depths.  

I am not afraid of sharks materializing from the inked abyss. The nothing in their soulless eyes is just black-bottomed assessing - not one of us.

In a lazuli sea, the barracuda cartel tails me, their silver barrels rule the reef, leering grins glinting diamonds, hungry pirates seeking gold hidden in my tender lobes.  

Yellow-bellied sea snakes swarm, their sinuously wicked heads disappear and reappear on ebb and crest of every wave, see their split tongues read the chemistry of each exhaled breath.

A swollen catch unsought.  Forsworn.  What's lost will be reborn.  From within, yolk still tethered, resting on the bottom.  Net a dying heart, return it to the deep, watch it roll and flutter, remember how to beat.

I have become
reticent
each year adding dark
to my lightness
I remember vaguely when
I radiated
it was not so long ago

now the rock
retribution etched
settles solid on my chest
I cannot see
the feather I once was
drifting from this high place
faith the air beneath me

balanced where
edge meets air  
above the green unfolding
alpine jewels reveal
the face
of the goddess
sleeping

clouds seep ragged
a softly closing circle
I am riding
the cloud center
trees dripping
bearded lichen
witness my ascent

Wild dreams
consume the night
all teeth and tongue
rough mustache
on warm skin
hands seeking
once secret places
now a sanctuary
where love
and pleasure
intertwine

I wake hungry
for your touch
craving midnight
fantasies made real
but my bed is empty
no point in lingering
this morning
I settle for hot coffee
nothing more
to sweeten
Sunday

The night so long
ships calling
stay away
come

blindly pierce
clouds
anchored
at the waterline

engines throb
close, yet not
though eyes strain
soft white contains

merely
opaque outlines
shrouding
shapes familiar

eagles
materialize
singing
arise, arise

dissipating
melted wisps
ascend to kiss
returning sun

will illumination come
with fading notes
of this
fog song?

It is as important
to recognize
what love isn't
as it is
to know
what love is

mistake not
lust
ego-driven
crush
flash flood
rush

nor need
the kind
that scours
the bones
licks the marrow
clean

not apathy
silent killer
complacent
acceptance
of less than
we deserve

violence
physical
verbal
control
love is never
these

it is
easy breathing
reflexive
vital
doubles down
no surrender

love holds
through heat and cold
sick and old
when age
erases my name
from your memory

I will come to you
fresh every day
someone new
different wig
ravish-me dress
old-lady hot

we’ll have a little fun
with the time left
at least you’ll die
thinking to yourself
*still got it
with the ladies

This morning I am
a Jain practicing ahimsa
weaving meticulously around
thousands of fog-kissed webs
a minute world visible to eyes
no longer willfully blind.

Each dwelling is self-contained
woven into surrounding crabgrass
trees to the tiny inhabitants
crouching cozy beneath
fluttering canopies sparking
rainbows in the lifting light.

Evelina’s fence of lichened cedar
slouches at the wetland border
her willows wildly weep
on silken cattail shoulders
the neighbors say she’s crazy
snidely call her Javelina
she's sane as any one of them
this brilliant winter morning

Evelina speaks of weather and dogs
hers, a Chihuahua named Fawn
mine, a Frenchie named Sparky
the weather, typically Northwest
in parting, sculpted driftwood
spiraling tornadic rings gifted
between palms roughly
worn by time and sea

Evelina’s yard is thick with trees
the neighbors want cut down
for now, she’s doing all she can
just holding swampy ground
each morning wakes triumphant
to beachcomb on the shore
pockets weighed with treasure
this moment, nothing more

The mirror is not my friend today
It has pilfered my youth
what little beauty I possessed
now softened or erased
by time the healer
time the thief

Raw moments
brand my face
with unedited lines
like pillow creases
that will never fade
from my skin

My eyes are circled black
lids stone-weighted
by what I cannot
bear to witness
sadness is their color
this day

the mirror is not my friend
it will not lie
somber eye to somber eye
the truth won't be denied
*what we have lost
can never be regained.

I have been heedless
reckless in my need
for perpetual motion.

Hours, a blurred periphery
promises like blades
pointed down

in case I stumbled.

apples lost
to early rot
first blush of red
on mottled skin
a sallow death
sure as sin

crow of night
crowns the branch
boldly pecks
a hole so wide
plucks the worm
from inside

Breaking clouds, illuminated arrival
a halo surrounds the oldest soul
in orbit through this midnight world
lonely shadow, scattered sky
blessed light to shuttered eyes

cobalt rain
rides the foothills
mountains conspire
in malevolent
cloud lairs

beneath gray waters
she treads
the warming sea
in constant current
scaled desire

burnished crimson
silver sleek
with ripened need
she lives to die
upstream

fiery crimson slash
on mountain canvas
false beauty above
truth hidden below
how low will they go
to tap the root
sip stolen nectar
to feed their bracted petal lies
protect the precious flower
from pestilence and weather
hummingbirds and hovering bees
take pollen honey-sweet
from the fertile center
spread the stealthy seed

We rise
only to fall
angels
gone to ground
in the sweet loam

honor the bones
let silt become
the raw clay
to re-form
our souls

Renegade crows
swagger ashore
lifting unlucky tritons
high into the whirling
wind, dropping them
to the rocks below

shell is rendered
to fine dust
revealing the mollusk
vainly hiding
in the fissured whorl
of what was once

Home

now a splintered chamber
with no exit  
from which to squeeze
into the minute space
between falling
and breaking clean open.

A shock of venom
oh, succulent hate
like honey to the most avid tongue.

We could turn away
carve a shallow life from the thin bone of oblivion
construct intricate vortices in which to endlessly swirl.

We could withdraw
terminal distrust gradually withering our lives
it would not still the voices screaming.

I seek the source of my own complicity
backtrack to the point at which I swung
from disillusioned to disengaged

my apathy mistaken for acceptance.

In the beginning
lovers revel
in newness
creating a map
for future explorations

Time erases novelty
leaving the essence
sometimes strong
often weakened
by familiarity

Could we be this lucky?
Days, weeks, months, years
have not diminished desire
have not reduced love
to senseless rubble

You make me believe
in Fate and Karma
Gentle men
The One
Forever

Years ago, I traded solitude  
for love’s vital beat
elusive and infinite

time accelerates, or maybe
I finally understand how fleeting
this charmed life is, as it moves

relentlessly toward their leaving.

Gather every
tender filament
to contain
your unraveling

weave a new skin
tougher
impervious
to touch

though wanton
ruby lips
scream
desire

let no one
smother
your inner
fire

an unspoken word
for every hole
drilled in the core
of held beliefs

red-hot mantle
cools by degree
losing its fluidity
silver surface thin

molten river beneath
restless currents
roil and boil
mixing strata

we become
bitter metal
iron hardening
under pressure

the wind takes
the burnished leaf
with masterful hand
imprints the fall
sweet cream on my lips
burnt autumn on my tongue

I ask for strength
to begin again
without remembering wounds
inflicted by barbed remarks
allegedly untainted
not meant to inflame

but my heart believes intention
is the truth that presages
any discerning interaction
words, the concrete bridge
to a reality from which
the soul cannot hide.

the poet
a scribe
recording
divine whispers

her muse
earthly angels
sent to
translate

her prayer
open me
so I may
receive

All I've known
of love
has been bound
by duty, expectation
filaments of need

golden moments
of being
recognized
a rare flicker
in the darkness.

I sought
a nameless place
where one could
defy the laws
of gravity

held captive
simply
by the radiance
of a rising sun
between us.

You ask
to have it all
you already have
the all of me
that silently whispers
I love

a mantra in my head
resting on your shoulder
my fingers tracing words
on your chest
that spell out
stay, be mine.

the devil does not roam
these blackened rooms
his is not the voice
that booms
and screams
from stage
to wall
in joyous tongues
recounts the fall
then rise to grace
the pulse
of life
that loves
not hates
music flows
from heart to mouth
letting all the demons out
here acceptance
blooms again
and we remember
we are kin

May your passing be quiet
in the beckoning night
may the answers you sought
be divinely defined
let all grievance be shed
to lighten your pace
bless your soul
now released  
all my love
peace

The most
dangerous
are those
sincere
in their belief
of a lie

https://youtu.be/6SFNW5F8K9Y

RIP Prince.  Worth cutting and pasting.  I promise.

The river
whispers
undulating
in its fertile bed
smooth current
barely a ripple
on transparent silk
spread softly over
algae-draped rocks.

The wind rises
alder leaves bare
silver bellies
to the sun's welcome
blessing
as I count mine
they are many
for I have learned
the value of gratitude.

Fighting what is
leads nowhere
it does not matter
which eddy
pulls me to shore
I have let go
control, an illusion
held beyond all reason
fear, time wasted.

Better to be the leaf
weightlessly floating
then drawn below
caressing stones
worn smooth by time
rising again
to glide unresisting
on the gilded light
of evening.

How easy to distill the past
sifting out impurities
so a clean silky edge
will soothe another’s tongue.

Serve up what flatters
spit out distasteful lapses
swallow raw memories  
let them sink

deep into the silted
heart of gray.

The lies we
tell each other,
tell ourselves.

We are all revisionists
editing our histories, omissions
catered to the prevailing
whims of taste and culture

until intimacy unmasks us.