sleepwalker

he projects himself a story
walks in

indifferent stars?

the stars are not indifferent
just busy

binocular vision

one small eye on each side of the nose
is sufficient
the face opens to the scenery
like a garage door

(quake)

(the understory turned
and threw over a city)

melting pot

with kitchen scissors
before the family house
cross-legged on a patch of lawn
the little man, ancient, sits
scissoring the grass

interactive

she waves at her dogs in the window
the dogs wave back with their tails

camellia bloom bursting
out of a spider's web
was the spider surprised!

saved again, by Medicine

eyes, there must be more for you to see
the neighbor's rhododendron about to bloom
our hydrangeas, about to answer

interlude

the sea lay undisturbed--
for days, not a swallow

.

dark shadow of her former self
lay draped across the floor

.

night birds' clicks
beeps swishes hums

.

held to the bed with tubes
over an abyss of fear

.

happy Easter said the slight man cheerfully
then fretted, are you Christian?

she noticed she could not say no

slow recovery

between the impulse and the act
a gulf too wide to bridge--
the hand, reaching for the door knob
stops just short

picture

red-wing blackbirds
crowing in the young trees
of the Walmart parking lot
preening themselves to glossy

trip in spring?

But if I leave
I cannot be here now!

Lake Merritt

downtown, among the buildings
blue water has cleared
a wide space for itself and the birds

housing crisis

the fragrant lumber flowed through town
houses advanced like haze on a pane

as for the northern forests

o carnage, o destruction
the satellite cried, looking down

glancing up from the Safeway parking lot

beneath the daytime moon,
a grapefruit tree with brighter moons
among its clustered leaves

the ticket

I trusted myself
to notice when the light turned red
but proved un-trust-worthy

hallucinatory

on the pane drawn in front of reality
figures appeared spoke their lines, left

she withheld judgment
believed the ones that remained

the moon in the picture, though
never moved

the medicine, slowly
wrapped the pain in spider silk
hung it like a ball

nausea

flat as a leaf, she felt herself blown
through nets of tree roots underground
then whirled into air
somersaulting over houses

:)

the Christmas card from Poland
promptly every year
arrives on March 15

details

she lights a match to watch
the tiny fire mountain break,
advance brightly to her hand

what does he look like
who managed to escape from
every photograph?

weeding

every plant I touch
is throwing seeds--such a rush
to live on this earth

life seems aimless without a pen
days flow by without a mark

news from the deck

the wind all day
entangled in chimes

caesura: the pause between winds

slow to blow

when the red light changed
he eventually
figured out
what that meant

journey

he didn't know how to begin his own
so he hitched a ride to see
where the army would take him

dickinson--
she left behind
a star trail of words

lovely lake view

I wanted to step into the picture
but it is water

shopping at the 99 cent store--
rich enough to afford plastic

conversation with the other side of the face

"If I would dye my hair
I'd look much younger," I said

"That's ok," I replied
"I'd rather be secretly young."

clouds sweep in

a remembered sky!

over a foreign landscape...

how easy it is
to move the sky
over a new home

event

out of silence, shouts
louder, angrier
higher, more desperate
a lifted knife plunges
an arm drives downward

break in the clouds
the sun dumps gold over
the man writhing hand-cuffed on the grass
the man lying limp in the driveway,
red and gold

swift cars, blue uniforms,
neighbors in groups, gold-tinged
the ambulance drives away
a gold star on its windshield

in honor of chicory

rising birds, lifting up out of a blue field
illusion of movement--
a still life of sun
on folded and extended wings

welcoming the new driver to, say, an 8-lane freeway

aren't you proud of yourself
the way you can maneuver
accurately, without touching
within this flock

on their 21st cruise

it was after they had secured their cabin
and arranged things in the cabinets and drawers
that she sat down on the bed suddenly, and said
you know what, Jamie?
I wish I were home

note for nation building

instead of they, them
I really want to hear more us
those of us, those among us...

I want the things that unite us
to decorate our shelves

homesick?

on the rippled water
an approaching mast
and the bridge begins to hum
two halves rise, drawing in the air
a non-existent mountain...

seaside on a Tuesday

the ocean is bored without us
lifts a languid hand to slap the beach

wipe your feet

on the door mat do
a little dance