long straight furrows' futile attempts to rule unruly Nature...

long rusty tin sheets dividing red dirt road from home and hogpen

the gentleman's a patient wolf
he trails his prey so quietly
and plans their quick demise.

his initial fascinations
are figments of imagination-
like melting rainbows, quickly forgot.

an earthy seducer ...
all the tragic ladies
immured in their addictions.

his sharp eye will quickly find
yet another quivering quail
in tallest grasses.

such eager craving -
born of hungry desires
the hunter's instinct

an infant has no words_
the pleasure at mother's breast
warm sweet sticky food love

welded walls surround circle of my world_ abundant lost connections.

nascent clover all around
grass so green it burns the eyes.
sulfur pollen on everything
at slightest touch, it puffs and
blossoms into the soft still air
all the windchimes sounding
incongruent harmonies
carried on the warming breeze
all the lovely voices
in unison.

sloe-eyed night-children wander aimlessly, searching for something else

for all our past, the future's come undone.
no longer can love's hope reverse our fate
no empathy, no longing in the heart,
no turning back, the clocks no longer keep
the time we lost while wandering hand in hand.
we set our course, but manifest the split -
no looking back ... there is no truth in it.

artlessly
i cast my thoughts into space
deliberate obfuscation
small metaphors and speculations

i do not keep
written records of my follies
they arrive at the speed of light.
belonging only to themselves.
flickering blazing dying
ashes to ashes
settling dust.

dead summer
sun shines between my bones
long crooked shadows
how long have I sat here?
oaks shade gave way to yellow

oblique rays illuminate
these dessicated sockets
gilded parched pastures
all dew has been up and took
long before I first awoke

autumn crows' appetite
my earthly flesh plucked away
I hear my heartbeat
thump thump as the rabbit runs
knowing winters frosty breath

the rabbit-catcher's campfire
cannot warm shivering bones
under their dry leafy quilt
all desire is quelled . . .
content with malodorous meat

from this hollow frame
my ice-glazed scaffold
coyote steals a femur
it was mine to freely give
suffering it was his to take

my gnawed bleached bones
scattered ,full transformation
predator to prey
play to the nature of things
sea transience by precipitant moon

4.12.12
A collaborative renga written with tsac

blushing oleander flowers beckon_inhale my dizzy deadly breath

river willow deep-rooted in crumbling bank sways in flood's wild currents

four-leaf clover pressed in dictionary_dried up good luck

she tiptoes amidst
a thousand pearls
as if walking in air

optic trick_rainbow's vivid prism forever to forever

poet's red heart
crushed by cruel inattention
in agony, her voice found...
with ecstatic precision
her final words
pierce her illusions
in a blaze of glory

deep in our hearts we tend the grave-yard's tiny tilted markers

thalassia, my love, how can you forsake me
for the arms of neptune?
your absent eyes speak
my pleas are in vain.

she turns back to the wild ocean
sad seagreen eyes seeking the horizon
a gull cries

as eel to ancestral river
she slips beneath the surface
in deep rippling azure light
her element revealed.

as you are one, you will return to one
i cannot follow..
brief ecstatic hours, loved by a nixie
and i am ruined

my futile tears are seafoam
left on the beach after a storm.
my useless nets left behind
i will cast them no more

immortal bonsai infused with glycerine on banker's desk.

i hear the cranes again
riding the thermals upward
this warming morning
calling and circling, they
fall into the long v shape
an arrow swiftly northbound

burning sticks
a simple cycle,
back and forth i go
with the pitchfork
re-building the center

watching fire is timeless
the hours stretched as dali's clock
only the bright blaze
requires attention -
my comtemplation

in the shimmer
of heat's rising
i see a ghost
a figment of imagination
vanishing quickly
optical illusion of you

faint shadow of sorrow_paradise lost behind heart overflowing with joy

at the end of the chilly day,
the edge of the woods is alight-
tall trees and low flickering fire-line
against the pale western sky.
the fierce blaze, wind-driven holocaust
burned hot and hard across the land.
the dancing fire-devils are gone.

a flashing firetruck waits
in the smoky air, the faint crackling radio
echoes the dying pops of the embers-
the quick snapping flare
of a pitchpine stump bright
against the long shadows.

God and man have fired
these woods for all time.
the neighbors congregate to watch
and talk, or lend a hand.
we walk the mile-long line
with our shovels and rakes,
soot-covered and coughing
to ensure the fire is dead.

crazy old sanders shouts
to us from the road:
"ticks and snakes! a fire's good!
it kills the ticks and snakes!"
he rides away on his bicycle-
a voice crying out in the night.
i believe him yet i bend to
blackened boots to check
my weary ankles for
signs of life.