Day Moon

The reeds make music
In their own greening voices,
They touch one another, like lovers caressing,
And the rustling rises like an anthem.
Sea oats don’t ask for second chances,
They just quiver with life,
And when the breeze passes by
They stand in ecstasy.

A falcon rides an updraft,
Above a sun-beaten shore
Not questioning but soaring,
Wings swooshing as it dives to find
An unsuspecting field mouse,
Whose time has run out,
The final screech unheard, except by the wind.

I walk for miles and miles,
My mind wandering and pondering
The evidence all around,
My eyes sting with the yellow of goldenrod
Born of sand and salt,
My ears ring with the humming of bees
Sucking the last bit of summer.

Late afternoon shadows pull me back
From thoughts that wandered farther than I
Along the beach,
I gather myself up, reluctantly,
Leaving the restless ocean behind.
The wind drums in my ears
This is your one and only chance.
I sense my breath keeping time with the wind,
Shivering……
I melt into the day moon.

The Bards Annual Anthology

                    2019

 

Bard’s Annual – Listen

 

Listen,
to the silence in the winter woods,
a certain mystical vibration humming over the water,
making it hard to breathe without  catching,
hard to sing without dancing.

Submit,
to its shuddering, juddering pulse,
walk into that stillness where only dead leaves breathe
and winter berries surrender to a hungry bird
and a red-tailed hawk lazes on an updraft circling eights.

Follow,
the path  of light and deep shadows
comfortably wrapped around an empty wood,
embrace the gentle wind, nipping at bare cheeks,
nod to the cerulean sky, color for the blind eyes of winter.

Hail,
dead branches soon to surrender to the snowing, blowing gale
jewels of compassion hiding dormant buds that wait
for the light of  spring, to jump the threshold
when they hear the gentle call to unfurl.

So listen,
companion of the reckless road
tune in to the pulsing beat of darkness
as winter drums its drum,
time to rest before the blooming work of spring,
time to rest before the blooming work of spring.

****

Bards Annual 2015

July 2015

 

Joy Ride

 

think how your body moved down the avenue of fourteen
hips swaying into tomorrow and the next day

how you curl your tongue around the idea of chocolate
consumed by it even as your body consumes it

how your eyes connect with other eyes,
locking you into that inevitable, unforgettable dance

and feel how your body shudders and utters delight
when you share its secrets

how Beethoven ravaged, savaged your heart
invading, vibrating a joyous ode across tiny ear drums

how your skin felt like silk when you dove into the ocean,
and the salt-flecked water blessed, caressed and ate you

how your body worked to roll out another and another body,
sweating and pushing, pushing and sweating you bore them out

then swooned at the scent of brand new-born
pouring into every open door your body owns

how you are stunned when you rise from a daydream
and your eyes run across the sky, immense, intense with clouds

how you glow when a little boy stops playing
to touch your cheek lightly, politely planting a kiss

 how a river of pleasure runs through your nose when a rose
shrugs off its holy fragrance

and oh,
feel how your heart pumped as you jumped on your bike
willing your eight year old legs to ride forever

how you soared, when you stopped on the road to Yosemite, awed
and had to lie on the hood of the car to keep from falling into the stars

and how your heart sings in time with the birds
when spring arrives to banish, vanish winter

your body convulses and pulses with laughter,
tears flowing, you fall down on the floor

when you think what an impossible joy-ride it has given you
ever since you climbed aboard at your naked, gasping birth.

****

Published July 2014 –  Bards Annual  2014 – A Poetry Anthology