1 I have never been a farmer, or farmer’s wife, sweating fruit lost to hard frost, and livelihood, or praying for rain. I have never wa...

- - Carpe viam "seize the road" was Horace's alternative in space instead of time diem and viam both symbols of the circl...

- - To be, so unlike another Discomfited in a room where I have never been nor will ever be. No lace. No flowers. Unrecognizable to my...

- - Frank O'Hara's perspective is profoundly urban, and I love his leaps and dives. The poem I read before my foray in the garden ...

- - I began this poem by cataloging things that are set away for another time. While writing I became nostalgic and thought of my Uncle Ji...

- - This poem is an attempt at plagiarism. I come from poetry lessons with Robert Kelly and Diane Wakoski who taught that copying the poems...

- - Shades of Red A man will tell you if you say The dress was coral that he doesn’t know what color that is. It’s a funny joke tha...

 - - Bonfirebird We circle ‘round a bonfire at midnight. The fire is warm, and dangerous. We can’t turn our faces away from its seductio...

- - Caravanserai Cords of silken blood flow in the peaks and passes of my body, a traveling miracle, while I read the news, all of...

- - Maybe it's because of National Poetry Month that I've been reflecting a lot on why I write poems. This blog has changed dramat...

- - Dancing at dawn I sit alone, like a pocketed wheel snail snugged in sandy dawn, the sun angling for salmon behind the barn’s thistl...

- - Driving with pink angels Pink of the dissolving petals, pouring out of the tree and pink in the palms of my hands. Pink dangling to...

- - after the lame goat in Rumi’s poem not everything is beautiful said the gods of guilt and fear and I understood suddenly after ...

- - April wind On a day when April wind has tumbled clouds into mile-high snowy hills like in Chinese paintings I wonder what strength...

- - Acrobat I have nowhere to put my arms away for the night and so I avoid taking them off, which only causes more problems. Lying ...

- - Resurrection pulses through me like a river pushing aside moments of death. My foot steps ahead toward the Russian olive, solitary, ...

- - When I feel most alone, no matter if life and love remain all around, when body and mind are too much, I need to leave the bread at the...

- - The Soul’s Correspondence Freely, the black locusts bend and wave from limbs and fingers, waterfall spray across their stone slab ...

- - Here's a bit of experimentation as I contemplate what lasts . What they’ll say when she’s gone I can’t believe I will never h...

- - Out or In Here is a young tree stretching its bark in a new spring. Its ghostly blossoms erupt like longing, so small in the air...