May 25, 2013
April 27, 2013
I saw it, then, white and slender,
a bird made of light.
It walked in the water on its long, slim legs,
as if dancing to a music it could only hear.
April 2, 2013
For weeks, for months, for years and decades,
through winter dark and summer bright,
through rain and drought, death and rebirth
its soul, one with its master,
the tiger slept.
March 26, 2013
Like trees shed their leaves and, vulnerable in the winter cold,
expose their branches, naked, to the world,
so writers, word by word
in their stories, reveal their souls.
March 19, 2013
“Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire,
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.”
― Robert Frost
March 8, 2013
March 6, 2013
Silent trees in the winter cold,
roots in the snow,
search the sky with naked arms, and dream
of distant summers
February 17, 2013
It was freezing cold in Lake Galena today.
and the geese, and the ducks.
And the broken tree.
Like my heart.
October 12, 2012
October 8, 2012
Welcome to my mind.
First the muse strikes . . .
. . . then the plot twists as it unfolds.
And the muse watches.