Monthly Archives: June 2015

Pressing Flowers

Brazen, lilac, brazen— pressing flowers all day to the summer wind, scenting nooks, crannies

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Between North Winds and Rain

Fucking near July— the lilacs were late, again, and so they linger now between north winds and rain… their scent faint enough for ya?

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Pool Among the Roots

The yellow suns of evening primrose Burn slow on the bank in the deep green Shade of spruce. Here the fisherman knows A pool among the roots, cool and clean. The trout rises liquid from the brook— Rod arcing, galvanic … Continue reading

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Slow Piano

Spring ends with lindens in a south wind, their wet boughs black beneath the green, swaying all day to the slow piano of summer rain

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Parenthetical

Late June. Does everything you want sit beyond reach tonight, enclosed by this thin stroke of moon?

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Mid-June Cinquain

In June we lurk around gardens, digging up worms, dreaming of trout, white-fleshed, salty, butter

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Remembering Attempting to Read Henry Miller

I’ve considered it from several angles This rambling structure you left behind— Its sideways stairs and doors to nowhere— And I want no window on your mind.

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I Beg to Differ, Mr Martin

Under the June sun dandelions are new coins scattered on the grass. And on the starling’s wing light twists in filigrees of gold.

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Poem Video (Another Entry in The Endless Book of the Dead)

Text here. Another Entry in The Endless Book of the Dead (for Paul Dawson)

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View of the Cemetery While Shingling

Oh, I keep me binoculars hung from the ladder When I’m shingling. Never in much of a hurry. You gotta get the right fit and keep the course Square anyway. So, yep, there’s always time to Stop and have a … Continue reading

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