Tag Archives: art

Evening Poem, June 25, 2016

‘ In early summer the late evening sky is white And the antiphonal drone of insects answering far and near Hovers and circles over all. Over the white fence a boy and a girl Play on a swing set Thinking … Continue reading

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#5

The first summer evening Reminds of relief from the day’s heat And of parties on the patio Under colored lights Music playing. . I walk down the street at dusk And from an open window Hear baseball announcers Talking of … Continue reading

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#4

In only a few hours the magic would happen again. This old building, once a grand house, preserved over decades as budget and cash flow allowed, flanked on one side now by a trailer park, on the other by the … Continue reading

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poem #2, may 28, 2016

You at the door Relax, There’s no need to brace yourself The morning breeze is warm You can use the screen door now The clouds are so bright that they look more real Than the rest of the world COPYRIGHT … Continue reading

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Coltrane at Ninety MPH

‘ He didn’t play Coltrane until he was out of the city. Till then he would have felt too confined Windows up, roof closed, traffic all around Stopping and going. The music would not have felt right then. . But … Continue reading

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Out My Window, 3 and 7

.. Look at the night The cool, misty grey This humid air and the yellow windows Lit from within Look at the silver starlight And the white streetlight And the radiant moon . Look at the light The new morning … Continue reading

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morning poem, may 2, 2016

HEADING WEST I remember thinking of the west As a young man I’d see clouds on the close horizon And imagine The great, clear skies of New Mexico How I got free I still don’t know But we pointed the … Continue reading

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evening poem, april 1, 2016

He stands in the broad river, a dark silhouette in the distance The sun behind is on the western horizon, the late summer day fades The laughing water around already silvered by the moon. His straw hat and khaki vest.  … Continue reading

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poem #2 March 29, 2016

.   The man who stood outside of time Couldn’t think of words that rhyme Could not feel the beat or pitch Could not sing along with Mitch . But he knew where he had been Going there and back … Continue reading

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mid-day poem, march 29, 2016

,   In April the hillside spring is still covered with last autumn’s leaf fall And marked only where the brown forest blanket is blackened With the soak and seep. . Who would brush away this covering And kneel and … Continue reading

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