Soothing The Child
Sweetness, Sweetness.
You know nothing
and yet you know.
So it is. So it is.
Passthrough Moment
Now is no podunk station.
Surrender --yes--
to this precious present.
It is everything, our all.
Fear Falls Away
This is the time of day
when the spider is still.
This is the time of day
when the lizards compete.
This is the time of day
when the caterpillars are on the move.
This is the time of day
when the flies show off.
Neither Separate Nor Equal
Funny how one thing
can sound like another.
You mistake whitewater
for wind brushing over the landscape.
A frog makes you think for a moment
that a bird has taken flight.
Funny how one thing
can look like another.
You take a patch of grass
for a desert watering hole.
Oxidized rock resembles scrap metal,
a desiccated carcass.
Substantial
Tethered by gravity
to the core of the earth.
Relaxed. In repose.
Yet --all the while--
spinning, whirling, revolving.
Born In San Francisco During The Age Of Foghorns
If I lived in a lush, pastoral place,
I would be the type to walk byways
stealing blooms that reached out
over fences and through gates.
If I lived on a battered coastline,
I would be the type to close my eyes
and inhale the salt air until
it clung to the roof of my mouth.
If I lived in an urban jungle,
I would be the type to read graffiti
in the bathroom stall and lay my forehead
against the cool glass of a bus window.
Yet I live on a high desert flanked by peaks,
so I am the type to feel a sense of abandon
crossing vast spaces, dwarfed
by expanses of subtle light and color.
Détente
The plane's unanticipated
swoops and dives elicit
exclamations and inhalations.
An "Oh!" escapes unbidden.
Fever plays like a breeze
over my forehead.
A startled stewardess
careens down the aisle.
Memo pad narration seems
called for, chicken scratch for later.
It occurs to me that I opted out
of choosing an emergency contact.
We jutter to a landing.
Contrails of fear and anticipation
stretch out behind me. And
already they begin to evaporate.
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