Tag Archives: Poetry

Escutcheon

Escutcheon Battle worn and battered and rusted somewhat; the rain affects me more than it once did. All the fools I believe surround me are themselves surrounded and I am one of those in the circle around the fools who … Continue reading

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Untitled Poem

One time I thought one thing mattered and that thing gave way, gave way like a diving board pulled from the diver when she was to spring to highest heights, it gave way like that to something else, this other … Continue reading

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Pretty Good Flower

The night falls on my time alone. They are the same, the time, the night. I have I take I request I make I demand I require this time and because you know me I never get past “I have”… … Continue reading

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Untitled 101

There goes my heart, again, running. Until it actually leaves, until I found it running through the woods, the past and future were everything and being between them is not the same as being present. That (the present, the gift) … Continue reading

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It’s Almost Nothing, Just This Moment

It’s almost nothing, this moment between us It’s the passing of our hands across the table It is the paying of bills, it is the proverbial kitchen table And us Discussing the future, in capital letters and, you know etc. … Continue reading

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Tidal Pull

I am thinking about the tide and watching it now, again, for several days. We are about 60 feet above the tideline in a house on the Oregon coast and I can see the ocean moving from above. I know … Continue reading

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Eddy

This eddy is taking a turn for the worse. I shouldn’t be surprised. All eddies are a joke, Going in circles and all. But the swirl is a tease every time. I can’t/won’t help it. I like falling for it. … Continue reading

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Untitled 121

I am swirling by. It’s a curve. It’s a train. It’s a corner window You are looking out and I am looking up. Shutter falls, shadows rise Light disappears and winds its way back, Slack and sideways to this corner … Continue reading

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Child of the Sun

I have four words for my son for his learning. These are springboards. They (you know, “them”) will teach him how to read and add/subtract in those rooms. After that (before that really, as in right now), this, these: Passion … Continue reading

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Blue Window

This blue window opens, flutters an invite: Wind wanders through here

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