Fury found in eyes that glare,
Fuming sheets that smoulder;
Clenched, my fist once did hold
A love, but now a soldier.

     Meet me in the morning,
     Just as the sun will rise,
     And there we'll mark our paces,
     And pledge our love won't die.

Search in autumn shorelines,
I'm standing in the sand;
Found guarding my own pill-box,
With destruction in my hands.

     Meet me in the time of love,
     Will you be my second?
     Relieve my eyes that guard a fancy,
     Release a heart so fecund.

Leave me shrouded in the evening mist,
Help the shooting stop.

Now leaves are yellowed with vericose veins,
And loosen with arthritic hands;
Our one-time love lifts with the night,
I've lost you once again.

For four days in May I'm going into the wild
Four days in the woods sleeping under a tarp
Why? Because for four days I can sit and write
Of day time views and noises of the night
No one else will be there to disturb my thoughts
No one I will need to support
Just me with the sounds of insects and birds
Four days without worries,  four days without cares

4:45 in the morning
But time has no meaning here
I went to bed with the suns dying rays
By the light of a flickering log fire
I sit in the suns early morning light
Listening to the dawn chorus as I try to write
No good so I lay down my pen
How can I compete with nature so grand
Perhaps a bit later unwritten words will flow
But until that time comes
I'll sit and watch nature grow

Daisies crowd my lawn,
Soon clover, bees, butterflies—
Now, garden meadow.

Ravens scatter outside my pain.
A throw of die against the winters

First snow and the window needs cleaning,
Maybe later.  The running glass

Is watery and after I make love
With you, I wake to the severing light

That is always silent.  The phone
Does not ring, as my cat has told me

Many times, let us play she says,
The way it used to be under

The red wood beams on the hard wood
Floors, you would cry in that vacancy.

Though we lived in a one bedroom
Unfurnished, I called it a dance hall

And we danced silly tangos.  I tried
To lift you then, but now outside

My window, ravens dervish and never
Fly in formation, under blue mountain.

The browned leaves fall swaying,

And meek sun, is lonely peeking,

Black birds drift with indifference,

Morning, a shroud of fallen cloud.

Loudly oily crows  .  .  .
Craning, walk prehistoric,
  .  .  .  Shining in the sun.