Death is the celebrity we all know
(just not personally).

The truth words come in shapes like water. Washing over me. Sometime I feel like drowning. Sometimes I think we all have. Known something so liquid that we can't.

a peaceful forest
the birds, the moss,
the glisten of river thru it
the soft foot fall of hunt
animal hunger
plant lust

all is peaceful
and even here is pain

pain is so a part of everything
as peace is
and sure as day and night
a biting life will strike
to bring us sleep and waking moments
lest we forget

My poetry
is best used at work
as notes of praise and encouragement
in co-workers birthday cards.

If, in reading my words,
their step is made lighter,
I am successful beyond kings.

I would write blessings to all the world
if the lightened step of men
would save it
but
at the end of days
I do not truly know
what a poet is.

Your conception of the world
can break if you
drop it.

It is not the precious gem
you've made it out to be.

To feel the warmth of sun on your face
is one thing.
To let it in like glass,
like water,
is another.

Distant, mist-wreathed hills
of sugar pine and ponderosa,
a girl is walking there.
Long, cool stride under low skies
hinting rain,
electric taste of grey.
On those silent hills I am filled with sound
as I watch her,
like an ocean or
television snow.
She stoops to lift a
stone or berry or seed
and turns eyes toward me.
My own eyes turn inward
and she disappears.