Road Sign

the dream path of the dead 

                        chilling but 

                        not that helpful

what the darkness says about it

                        is too low to hear 

                        we need

a big shamanic drum to beat

                        points of light

                        shining

like prayers signing the way

Little Cosmic Events

 my bones are hollowed out

playing a low raspy lament

a song to make the dead return

but they were told to never

                                look back

Wind From the Bay

 wind from the bay

        wet and insistent

Monday morning shuttle

        going nowhere

weaving trees, their

        shadow and light

The Butterfly Nebula

 it's easy

in times of deep loss

to give into death

and it tows you with all its

dark energy

alluring and beautiful

to the Butterfly Nebula

        the bones of a long dead sun

        immeasurable, well beyond our knowing

        for our fragile, geocentric being

look for a minute or two

not much more

So Early

 so early

just past dawn

a great blue heron

flies across the lagoon

the bright wings

powerful and slow

carrying a long thin branch

and for just a moment

the closed fist inside

opens

there it is

the kingdom

you have everything you need

Concerning Dragons

 Why do we love our dragons so much?

after all

        they don't love us back

they may sit meekly on a shelf

        under a shoe

        stuffed into a closet

or in a medicine cabinet

        tiny, chalky white

        with a long rat tail

Zorro, I called him

        a cloud of chalk

        he'd vanished

dragons are not just Medieval problems

they still come around

    

Canyon Colors