OBSERVATION FROM AN OLD NOTEBOOK
my real name was Clarence but they always called me Dummy because they thought I was stupid I lived with my Mom and swept up… for a dollar a day ‘cause
death is absence of thought - zen how can we be afraid of something we cannot live to experience? it’s life that is frightening
the universe opens accepting my homecoming sky races by
summer is ending following the rolling sun quite without remorse
come sit beneath my branches and read to me from dead poets for I am old all texture and symmetry a conspiracy of cocoons
In the universe Of winking stars is there one Who also wonders?
crickets and brittle leaves empty seed pods scurrying in the heavy scent of autumn
it was always said that of all the people on the Island I loved life the best I who had the least but I had all I needed
seek the council of wild things in… leaves that turn their silver side… before the rain slender reeds that accept and bend they will sew your words abroad
through the sea smoke’s shimmering… where the Passamaquoddy flows the pulsing heartbeat of the strob… in my footsteps, crunching snow through the whirling, wind-blown f…
we saw your burnished footprints in the soft beach sand followed them across the sea and through the shattered sky beyo… ‘one small step for man’, he said
looking at the world through drops of counterfeit lace on the window pane
Clouds on horizon Now and then a shorebird’s cry On buffeting wind
I saw their faces as clearly as if… on their stones beneath their name… heard their voices in the trees whose roots go deep into their dus… and into the dust of this Island
WINTER SHADOW / Feb 11, 2011 small white stones fall rattling to the ground a shadow keeps pace beside me through the groaning night