Sunday, December 15, 2013


underneath where the snow leaves
bare the root
     and the soil crumbles, small rocks
shelter up in the crook,
the dry darkness

      the memory of years spent
      pushes against what
      was never there                                                  

thinking about shelter: what constitutes it, what it means and hearing of a friend's loss.
what defines us and where we seek that definition...

Wednesday, August 28, 2013


late august rustling
ragged winged coppers flutter in a yellow sea of buckwheat
the old dog needs more
and the young one
doesn't know