Would it seem presumptuous, perhaps impertinent,
of me to invite you for a cup of tea on a sunny Sunday
morning at a small shop on a well- trafficked street?
And, it you were to agree would you question me,
over that cup of tea, or before, as to why I wish
your company on a sunny Sunday morning?

I might answer, before that cup of tea, that your interests
interest me, and given what I see, you seem quite shy (and
I have heard this is true) and I think you might be more
inclined to reply over a cup of pekoe brew on a safe and
sunny well-trafficked street on a Sunday morning.

And, what would the object be, you might ask, of meeting
over a cup of tea and what would a pertinent question be?

The why and why not of what you know and what you do,
the who and why and what of you  cannot all be explained
over a cup of tea on a sunny Sunday morning, but a small
answer, say a cupful, with one who takes pleasure in
interesting conversation with one who seems interesting
is all the question and answer needed on a sunny Sunday
morning and a cup of tea.

Ehyeh Osher Ehyeh
  God to Moses
  Exodus 3:14*

I am who I am,
and I am not
when I am not.
I have given up
on those I made
and now an attendant
in Hubbard's parking lot.

I turned you over to
my only son, but he
found you spiteful
and not much fun.

So this is just
to let you know
that neither of us care
much for you anymore.

Please excuse
the gentleman
on the middle cross
since he has had
a difficult day.
Long walk, bleeding side,
stinging palms.

             He mumbles
in a language
the Greek speaking soldiers
              beneath him
do not understand as
they loiter about
waiting for his
labored breathing
to cease
so that
they may
pull him down
bury him
then go to
their quarters
and their wine,
for the afternoon
is waning.

She left  for nine days
did not say to me goodbye
so I sit and cry.

It so depends
on the
right word
spoken
to the
right person
at the
right time.

I am thinking of you.
                      I am always thinking of you.
                                      Mary Oliver
I am sad and
I am confused.
I want to reach out
help you tie your shoe.
Ask you why the anger,
ask you why you can't
acknowledge what I have
done for you.
Ask you why you can't
be honest with me,
deal with me honestly.
You have taken away
from me a treasure.
You have created a riff
in a friendship.
You don't seem to care
about the truth.
I am sad, and
I am confused,
I want to
be done with you.

It is more
what is said
than how
it is phrased.
Like bees
back and forth
in and out
of my
flower bed.

Now that you have left
me alone I have no one
to do nothing with.

I convey
all my emotions
by saying ****
in assorted tones.*
But, feeling that
sounded somewhat
uneducated, he
then said, *I express
all my emotions
in varying tones, affixes,
and tenses of ****.

A glass shattering
on a tile floor,
pitcher of beer
knocked over into
fresh cut grass.

Yes, an egg
struck against
the edge of a bowl,
never to be
whole again.

And so goes trust
when shattered,
knocked over, struck.
“All the king's men...”
can never put it
together again.

I am in a strange city.
I open a door for a woman
in a large floppy orange hat.
As she walks away she
seems to me very familiar.

As I follow her I realize she
is pulling my memories of her
into her large handbag. And,
I am losing her as she disappears
into a crowd of people.

Now I am lost in that crowd
in this strange city,
trying to remember something
I am not sure what.

From Cold Tea Blues
            Cowboy Junkies

He brought her
hot coffee
each morning.
He poured her
a glass of wine
each evening.

Now, she sits
on a barstool
with another,
sipping martinis
and eating
green olives.

He stares at his
cup of tea as it
slowly grows cold
Along with his hopes.

...  for SMC*
            
The universe is,
perhaps, too vast
to feel any impact,
but even the
usually emotionless
Azrael will lightly
kiss my brow
in recognition of
the vastness
of my love for you
before he sends
my soul on to
God for judgment.

Writing poems may save my place in the book
of life. But I think my life is better seen
from a distance. Close up there are issues, dents
and some old popcorn under my chair.

In each seed I plant

I think must lie God herself

How else to explain.

I can hear them
In the distance.
Geese.

Sugaring shack,
Maple tree sap.
Boiled down to
Syrup.

Hopping, looking,
Head cocked to side.
Robins.

A patch of snow
Waits for the sun.
April

Yes, I caught
your glance.
Held just a second
too long
to be casual.
More to ask -
Don't you see
my troubled heart
my lost love?

I would have tipped
my hat, given you
a wave,
but one hand held
my umbrella,
the other held
a box
filled with
my broken dreams.

Your cat told me that
in your sleep you said
when the time comes, you
will kiss me goodbye.

to the end of love*
you, only recently gone
one more time *dance me

Promises

that dissolve
in a glass    
of wine,
or simply   
fly away,      
taking
the heart      
with them.

A mouse glides through the
ferns and fallen leaves and finds
the lady slippers.

Small birds at feeder
a banshee blue jay swoops in
sudden burst of wings

Does a butterfly
dream and is that dream of me
as I dream of her.