(2008)
Empty moorings and Quiet lighthouse watch the bay Crawl back to the sea
a cookbook is a strange place to find a recipe for the mind but the notes tell me the lemon tr… blooms year ‘round, never stops; while one branch sweetens the air
surf and turf of St. Andrews olde salts and bullshit under one blue tarp gossip thick as molasses sparks quick as match-lit gas
the sum of the estate: pictures newspaper clippings poems the memories
Snowflakes or fireflies Beneath an oval moon Do I wake or dream?
white-rimmed waves crawl reluctantly shore ward moody city skyline rebuffs shafts of sunshine cloud confusion
silent universe solitary traveller a perfect union
a great blue heron watches from a mogul of grass as I scavenge a poem from the marsh Tom Peepety calls
once the larvae have hatched how long can they survive without… each day I go forceps in hand to count the dead
the universe opens accepting my homecoming sky races by
Tide tickling sun’s wake Under a thin skin of ice Beach disappearing
come sit beneath my branches and read to me from dead poets for I am old all texture and symmetry a conspiracy of cocoons
Beneath that secretive smile A strong hot thrust From a sidewalk grate….
Clouds on horizon Now and then a shorebird’s cry On buffeting wind
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