more dreams

n center city, an encampment
billowing tents, wildly waving pennants
music of gongs and chimes

the people reverent, participating in rituals
of deep meaning, ancient significance

when the families stopped dancing and the music died
she curled up in her chair and cried,
walked down the street with clenched fists--

all this we gave up for knowledge?
knowledge had better be worth it

view of the stadium

there they were--men, women
and all gradations in between

at the last

he liked to call up
his employees from his bed
and chew them out

(looks so real, but breathes not)

(the undertaker's masterwork
too beautiful to be interred)

(boxed--a delivery of flowers--
close the lid)

progress

she woke slowly from her dream
and began remembering her world
without dread

tip

drink coffee at bedtime
have faster dreams all night

transplant

surrounded by buildings
she glances often at the sky
with its darting birds
and remembers: earth beneath
the pavement

consoled

rush of commute traffic
the thump of party music gearing up
the neighbor screaming at her little ones again
ah, a nuthatch calls--it has found our trees

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