Vapor

It's easy, when I'm lying here,
Tired and still at night.
To dream what it would be
To close my eyes, and quietly slip away.

Freed from everything, feeling nothing.
No not now nor ever again.
A warm and comforting darkness.
A non-existing blanket.

There is no resistance,
No push-back to this urge.
No Darwinian instinct
To advocate my cause.

The Fates that align and quietly plot,
The miniscule arcings of our lives.
They shrug in solemn agreement,
That no, it does not matter.

But, the others, I think, the others.
I know that's why I stay.
Should I wake up and find them gone -
I know that soon I'd join them.

Shapes and relations

We know each other so well, in fact
better the other than ourselves
I can point to your follies with both eyes closed
And both hands behind my back
And you in return, and we both are right
We'll always deny each other the validity of the knowledge
It's a stubborn trait
A mountain that denies erosion
A stream refusing flow
You are wrong! I am not moving,
Life moves past me!
Deny as we might, the truth takes no heed
And the results, never change.

Fall 2011 - First Day of Class

Waiting for my English course to start
the weather does not yet know it is Fall
sitting by the window was a mistake
I wonder if I could listen from outside...




No wind comes in but I look out
A row of Japanese Maples
branches full of red leaves
shake and rock in the breeze
Tree tops resist surrender
to the encroaching shade
cast by surrounding roof tops.

Loyal Employ

Tired hound
......your day is done

Lay your head
..........you need stir no more

Shut your eyes
..............your watch is up

May dreams be swift
................and carry you far

Sleep well and sound
............take rest while you can

Tomorrow, rise up
........we'll begin again

Staring at the Wall

Should I be concerned...



With what appears before my eyes?

Three before noon

Mt. Diablo

Seen through the blue haze
of a windy delta day
Valleys dropping
Ridges rising
all re imagined
the looming mountain
is now a backdrop
painted only for
today's performance


Following footsteps

The last few drops of coffee settle in my cup.
Sugar and cream balancing bitter.
The first sip cautious but cool.
Pushing a button, the microwave springs open.
Setting the cup in the center of the turntable
I notice a brown ring of
coffee left by another's cup.


Organizing

Sitting at the cluttered dining room table
facing West through the window
I see a note my father started
or finished

two items are on it:

traffic cones
eggs

Thought from the hot tub

Its dark outside, the house
the kitchen windows lit

and I can see two vases
she set them upon the sill

full of brightly colored flowers
set there as reminders

of how bright days can be
when its dark outside.