Tag: Nature


The grey squirrel is careful
in his approach but no
more than that
Not a surreptitious bone
in his lithe rodent body
hanging on the feeder
gorging on the bounty
intended for the finches
and their assorted friends
lined along the deck rail


This bitter wind is a
shepherd to the trees
deftly shearing the
snowy fleece from the
Leyland Cypress along
the fence line
The white crystals
leap skyward
before falling
to earth a
second time
around the
freshly shorn

Request (Invocation)

Oh great owl
Ruler of the night
wings outstretched
in silent flight
Hearing and seeing
the tiniest things
invisible things
secret things
Sister of the moon
bathed by her light
Messenger in a
thousand dreams
come and take me
to your forest keep
where I can seal away
this pain


Dispatched some eight minutes
or so ago and told to cross
one-hundred fifty million
comes a benediction
A small piece of the sun
streaming through the
palladium window
spans the family room
and lays hands upon my
sitar in a shining
silent blessing

The Snow Is Dying

The snow is dying
I hear its chaste white limbs
exploding against the cedar boughs
See them as they fall shattered
to the ground
No one weeps
The earth will absorb
every trace of its
blood to feed the
waiting blooms
of Spring

One Hot Summer’s Hour

I would tear through the woods
and they would in turn tear me
I still have coats and jackets
wearing the scars from brambles
and barbed wire
that I kept going
though lost once in the thick
near the Civil War crossing
point of Kelly’s Ford
Arms torn bloody by
interminable thorns
that formed
a harsh green wall
Nothing could be seen
more than four feet
in front of me in
any direction
so I paused


I listened hard
for the river
The Rappahannock
was near and if
I got there it
would lead to

Rivers always do

So I forged toward
the song of the rocks
being played by the water
The briars grasping
Every step impeded
Still I ripped free
until I found that
sweet rushing water

And a fellow fishing

Less than an eighth
of a mile from where
I started
from life to death
to life again in
the span in one
hot summer’s hour


Though their time together is brief
the trees love the fireflies deeply
Cherished as the twinkling stars
come down to earth to play at
their feet and tickle their leaves
and the trees giggle and tell them
fairy tales of magical things
Of fluffy white snow
and long dark nights
of cold


I know
that moment
that instant
just before
the hawk’s talons
grasp the mole
for I have been
Now merged into
perched calmly
atop the gnarled
old oak

Seeing clearly