Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Breakfast

   my morning surprise-
wandering through the berries
  red lips on black bear 

Ghosts



Flowers bleed up
through the dirt,
colored mirrors
not done reflecting.

Old homes and lonely gardens,
not even one stick of wood left
to mark their faithful service.

A crumbled concrete step here or there,
bricks and couples of laundry line posts
left to rust away, feet first.

Random bulbed blossoms
chant old address numbers
over and over to each other
each spring and fall.

This was where you lived

Her Room

Presbyterians and others have drunk toasts
in Monica's old corn-yellow bedroom.
Mom too slept there the first night we moved in;
dad would have howled had he known.

The walls fell and as we changed its spots and stripes.
Now eating breakfast there most mornings,
watching squirrels out side the windows.

We inherited her dreamland
with glass doorknobs and emptied closets.
The room and we testified that she awoke
where I now sit drinking my morning coffee.

Driggs

West of Driggs, just out of Wyoming's reach
we passed the staggered
chewing fleet of harvesters

Stretched across the wheated hills
The metal locust crawl along
Stripping the stalks of
Golden sunshine, sewed in graceful
Topographic corduroy rows

Woody too, sang of golden hills,
he must have have watched this
show long before

Pyres of dust spiral skyward
Each lumbering machine moved
In synchronized choreography
hungry small train chugging
Along so heavy laden and ready

The Tetons watched, in wait for snow
As another harvest ended

Seated Then Buried

Headstones mark
the resting place
where the buried Lazboys
lye back and hold those
that had sat and watched

Now each had their own
remote control, just no reception.
Focused on a small dark screen
that had first went all jagged-like,
followed by a test pattern,

then forever black.

Northwestern Sunlight

High above Oregon's mist
lounges a pale orb
coy or maybe just bashful

She lies stretched out on her cloudy davenport
like a lazy stretching cat

Lolling in the sky
writing love notes and swirls
to rhododendrons and monkey puzzle trees

Hanging there with downcast eyes
knowing her timid glances will go
unreturned until

Raindrops fall through the mist
punching little holes with their
constant whispers of devotion

followed momentarily by tiny threads
of falling light

Beached Sun

Today's  sparkle is almost done
Running barefoot through the waves
With sand between my toes
warm thoughts
behind my eyes