Come morning, we slid tippy kayaks into the Sound, Poulsbo-bound for breakfast Fearless oars separated families of jellyfish, we mean no harm, just passing through And geoducks – what strange creations, sand-fountains that could dance to Mozart Comfort of land, sun-drenched streets of shops, families, Norwegian oddities, pastries the size of frisbees.
Tag Archives: Poetry
EGG-SHAPED SQUASH
Together, we forgive the rind with a sharpened knife You split with force the egg-shaped squash Whose entrails I spoon onto the butcher’s block Spreading like an orange net, loaded with teardrop seeds The belly of our oven is amber-glowing, ready
First summer in a seaport city
Posing as a coastal surprise Blooms in abundance in summertime Sweet pink roses climb on green branches Tender pale buds that yearn for vases And the unsuspecting other-surprise Left by a canine, who just had to go Where I would plant my sandal When reaching for a few blooms of my own
BIGGER SKY
Urban climbing up concrete hills, what season is it anyway? Four straight days of light-flooded windows spark new leaves on the basil plant. I said it many times: I need a bigger sky, larger moon-stage, vast and brooding. On that shallow shore just north of here: why are the boats left floating free all night? WhatContinue reading “BIGGER SKY”
AN EDUCATION
(I wrote this poem about two years ago, when I was unemployed after college. Now I’m about to be voluntarily unemployed. How much life can change in so little time. I am learning now what is essential to my happiness, my wholeness. And it absolutely means simplicity.) Our fruit baskets are not empty. My shelfContinue reading “AN EDUCATION”
fog up the windows 