I write poetry primarily ( I just started writing flash fiction which is harder for me). I've been writing more than forty years. I love words and what they can do. I learn from what I write. It is an ongoing process, I revise, sometimes for decades, until I feel I have found the best and fewest words. I believe poetry comes close to saying in words what can't be said in words. Mary Oliver is my favorite contemporary poet.
Sunset Before slipping into a waiting sea the red sun for just a moment stops, perhaps imagining the feel of cool water. |
Who's To Say In the forest a dying mushroom curls in on itself, appearing as a new bloom. Who’s to say, end or beginning. |
Silk Sari
Washed in the river and hung on a tree her silk sari sings to the mud of the sadness of drying |
Tundra
Swans Swans to the far horizons thousands and thousands fresh from the Tundra. White feathers cover their long necks and great bodies in dazzling grandeur. They fill the landscape and cover the lake, more of them than my mind can measure. I stand and stare staggered by their immense numbers. In Audubon's time such bird abundance was commonplace and bird scarcity wasn't yet a concept. |
Baroque Concert
Lips on reed,fingers on keys, stringed wood cradled close. Breath pushes slowly through oboe, bow races then slows across receptive strands, each angle discrete. Wind and fingers swirl alive a charmed sound to woo the Gods of peace back to earth. |