rack

 

coats on a rack,
black, blue and gray --
springtime is near

 

 

tempera

        

 

 

 

 

people, leaves and rain ...
          daubs of tempera dress up
                        Dad's button-down shirt

Midwest

red silk,
orange silk, in tassels,
  on the corn -- 

a rainy Midwest morning
 casts muted shades of gray

another day of rain

crow raises his wings;
their sheen in this sleet!
chill Autumn rain



 bright colours
predominate, a tint in green --
another day of rain

 a cry raised, a clamour
before these geese depart --
it's only a little rain!

 

 

gray

a day too gray -
a river in Autumn
the color of sky

` Hell, No, It's Not For The Glory!

Last Man

My best friend Steve is a Vietnam vet. Bless his heart, he never broached the subject, nor did I until I’d known him for a few years. He did share some odd tales about the war with me then.

A natural story teller, he was witty, sardonic, with some hilarious punchlines thrown in. And, quite often, disturbingly surreal. He’d won a medal for stealing a jeep once … it’s a long story, I couldn’t tell it like he could.

We have a last man's club of sorts; one bottle Johnny Walker Black, one pair clean socks, a pack of Winstons – everything a guy needs, stuffed into a re-gifted wine box.

Someday, one of us will get to piss on the other's grave.



Dragon's Breath
the forest alight in flame,
red, green, orange, black!
laughing, a ghost beckons,
beautiful and serene








Two Years Gone By

500,000 Iraqi Children Die

more poems about corn

prayers for rain -
the church league's corn boil
won't be held this year







the tall corn's shadow
cast across the grave yard --
Autumn is coming

strong stalks of ripened corn

silk entwined in red and yellow
long uneven rows

bright beside a winding road 

turned gray in constant drizzle

Autumn Ginko: October 2010

leaf viewing
a black ribbon unwinds
on pace with the sun

















oak leaves tossed about
on a sudden wind --
that sense of falling
















cool steel
set deep in the rock
the current always constant




























all but in vain
lumbermen search for the key
a river made from trees




























something's forgotten
down those damp hollows --
in the glacier's garden


















stones and gravel
sheared right through --
the glacier asleep


















an idle contemplation
for the waters of Autumn --
Princess of the Falls




























memories, fleeting,
bear a lingering sweetness --
coolness in the pine















Interstate Park








.

coat rack

first spring day -
coats, all on the rack,
black, blue and gray