Tag Archives: modern poetry

Morning Poem, April 27, 2017

  These early Spring mornings remind me of Taos Yellow sunlight filtering, being prismed through the mist And Herbie Hancock playing Joni Mitchell songs Soft and low, sweet and low, piano low Each riff a whispered secret . From a … Continue reading

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mid day poem, may 13, 2015

The spirit wind lives Sometimes I hear it sing Sometimes on foggy riverbanks Sometimes in high ravines.   copyright 2015

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late night poem, April 26, 2015

They came to the river long after dark And built a fire there, the four of them They’d brought bait from home A little tub of chicken livers for the catfish And a coffee can full of nightcrawlers for everything … Continue reading

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Morning Poem, March 17, 2015

, WHY I WRITE , Because every door opens onto mystery And invites the daring to adventure and flight To taste, finally, that rarest of flavors At the top of the storm At the top of the sweet wind. . … Continue reading

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Morning Poem, March 11, 2015

I take hat and coat and gloves and scarf and boots Car keys and a pack filled with the days lunch. In my other hand, a travel mug of coffee I can barely manage to open the door Weighted as … Continue reading

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Noonday Poem, January 9, 2015

Frost makes clean; near and far. . The lawns, the open lots the view of the town below are, like in the song, white and even. . In the woods, the pathways are firm and easy to grip. Even the … Continue reading

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Afternoon Poem, December 15, 2014

Christmas Day Christmas is morning bright and joyful. . In a living room strewn with opened boxes and gifts of every description A young boy meditates: This is more than I expected more than I asked for and better, in … Continue reading

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Some Thoughts On Poetry

Some of my friends don’t like poetry. These guys are neither dull nor unsophisticated. They read widely, some of them, and I find their tastes in prose pretty comparable to my own. More than once I have tried a book … Continue reading

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Afternoon Poem, November 24, 2014

    The Crossing Guard     The calendar says it is still autumn But this morning has winter written all over it Cold, windy, raw I scrape the windshield and head for work This time on the old road … Continue reading

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Morning Poem, November 24, 2014

I remember the old street And the old dirt alley running behind the houses The clotheslines and tomato vines in every backyard. The chain-link fences And the low whir of the pushmowers Slicing across the little rectangles of lawn. I … Continue reading

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