Call and Response: Day 53: Endings

We gather
round mugs of coffee
like fire in the kiva
or a lover's smile
looking for heat
erasure of care
communion
waiting for wishes
we gather

Hills

now winter
the hills put on green
if you climb to the top
where soft and moist
moss
a place to lie down
a place to dream

Call and Response: 52: As Carols Linger

From one city of faith to another

I tilt this candle to light your own.

Hold your breath for the incoming

new. I imagine you,

wrapped in the dark warming

your hands and light the fire

under this

last post - more fragile than

winter on a damp cheek.

Abundantly, we concede, the future.

Call And Response: 51 and counting: Deciduous

gently the old year wanes
a few stubborn leaves remain
most branches are bare
though camellias and calla lilies
rush to bloom
and I spy the first pink
magnolia
today

Call and Response: 51: The Wet Gift of White

Today there is snow where

yesterday there was none

The crook of the tree

gathers its wet gift

Call and Response: Day 50: Wind's Come

December winds enter
we trim the tree
rain clouds cluster
It's Winter
for a week

Call and Response: Day 50: coffee

the coffee shops in Oakland
filled with people
ands curved around mugs
steam and foam rising
while outside the streets are wet
and the leaves that can fall have
fallen in rich red patterns
oak and maple
nearby the camellias are blooming

Call and Response: 50: Joy

Swivel neck reindeers

are appearing on lawns

Small brown sacks

of sand and candles

draw attention

to the night walk

canyon road

and the door

Christmas will enter quietly

when you are not looking

and are otherwise occupied

with Joy

Call and Response: 49: Plaza Lights

With our heads in warm hats

and hands brushing the dusk trees

we watched until, impatient,

we escaped to the Five & Dime

for frito pies in one hand and

hot chocolate in the other.

Then stepping back into the cold

we see night had pronounced

the season had come

without us

but gifted us

with tumbling quilt light.

Call and Response:# 49:December

these are the days of endings
of bitter
and sweet
goodbyes
and putting away

the nights deeper
the day crisp
and clear
tears
and remembering

these are the days of endings
of cold
and frost
hopes
and returning

Call and Response: 48: Hands on Hands

In the forest one single trunk

bears four initials of two, insignia

bracelet wrapping, one

way to remember this place

Like pointing, see

there, just left of center

18 steps in, before the downslope of blue

mountains like hands

on top of hands

etching

Call and Response: #48: View

old brown photographs
frayed and fraying like
the moments captured

I have forgotten
if I held your hand
and your name

Call and Response: DayTo be Determined: Five

on the long straight
highway featureless
except for beauty
pale hills waiting for
rain and strange green
winter here is an orchard
there a creek dry
water sent to quench lawns
turning green in the desert
we move erratically
now flying then halting
behind trucks carrying secrets
or green apples
we aim South then East
feeling our way in familiar
directions as if blind

Call And Response: Day 47: Five

we drive East through the Central Valley
the hills undifferentiated save for beauty's
pale gold waiting for the first rains
of our green winter orchards
waiting for bulldozers to push
frail blossoms into lots for houses
no one wants to buy
moving South and East as fast as wings
then slow behind trucks carrying
fruit or secrets we could share
before we cross the Rio Grande

Call and Response: 47: Making Neighbors

Hearts on sleeves here

all over town

nods of confidence

for the President and

invitations to sit down

together for tea.

Slow down and look at

your neighbor.

Let them

move ahead

in front of you.

Call and Response: 46: Stream

Before snow what comes

down the mountain is clear

path marking stream

loping a right turn then

rocks reveal clean faces

smooth curved palm fits

We remember shiver

Call and Response: Day 46: Quick Light

the air clear and cool
as if remembering rain
drifts like sparkling water
toward the flower stand
roses and Gerberas
beside tulips and daisies
and gently embraces
the hope of snow

Call and Response: 45: Alley Parking

If you took my first name and translated it

you would find me dancing flamenco

through a warm night in tiny tap shoes

wooing a wicked drink downtown with friends

with an extra pair of more practical flats

on the seat in the cab of the turquoise Ford pickup in the alley, idling

Lotta car, lady, the boys would whimper

and scold after me, small woman on a mission

Call and Response: Day 45: Heat And Fog

liquid amber leaves
turn and fall in gold and red
the street is hot
it doesn't steam but
beads of sweat on my face
sign tropics or desert
as we drive home
I look and see wisps
of fog rolling slowly
from the bay

Call and Response: Day 44: Calling

yes there is there here
we walk to post our letters
then crossing one more street
we find Italian
coffee warmth
and the young woman
sitting next to us
we talk about energy
from the sun
exchange cards
then hurry to the farmers
market for
sweet strawberries

Call and Response: 44: More Forest

My daughter's perspective

tells me to remember

the turn-around

the spilling of

uncertainty, simply

righted with two arms

held in front of you

in the air like

aspens pointed

this direction

instead of arrows

like evergreen, the body

Call and Response: Day 43: Readied

Readied, #1
Originally uploaded by vajra

this fragile remnant
of sturdy dandelion
withstood last night's shower
washed clean of color
it seems impervious
still and strong
I hold my breath

and
pass
by

Call and Response: 43: Nest

We wander the forest after an argument

I nearly forget to survey the trees for solace

But, eventually, I spy the precarious nest

in the arms of a barrel chested tree

nest holding fast, forgiveness holding on

Proposal

Call and Response: 42

Shadow curly qs

overtake the morning porch

eye lounge

legs outstretched

Call And Response: #42: Fool's Gold

buckets of sunflowers
at the small farmers's market
beside oddly shaped tomatoes
we stop for broccoli and beans
in the golden
afternoon

Call & Response: Day 41: Seeing

On the Mend, #5
Originally uploaded by vajra

I look at the screen
finding ways to live
virtually

what I see is
action unhinged from
virtue

we forget the answer
to keeping our brother is
yes

we forget the answer
to who is your sister is
you

Call and Response: 41: Splashes of Dream

Weather tells us bring out turtlenecks

long sleeves, and quilts

worn at the edges from fingers

stitched like splashes of dream.

We overlap in living color

seeking comfort. Seeking.

Winter's flannel animals, we

wrists and neck, unfolding screens.

Call and Response: 40: Path

Singing until you go silent

at the top of the incline

head tipped back, feet feeling.

You spy a path through the aspens,

say "Can you get a picture of that?"

Call and Response: 40: Music Keeps Comin'

we lived for numbers
desks pushed closely together
heads down eyes closed waiting for
Armageddon we listened to Dylan
stood in silence for rights and peace
yelled at cops and Guardsmen
swinging clubs watched or marched
Chicago Kent Pentagon blurred
by patchouli and weed
blessed out at concerts and beaches
always always music
always the music

Call and Response: 39: Watching

I step up to watch the dancers

Instead I am taken with this

Woman's earthen embroidery

I am the stranger to her right

We lean against the same post

Sashes at hard working waists

Elastic holds our hair back

No one sees us seeing

We are content right here

Call and Response: 39: Tensile

the simple dandelion
the busy spider both
in their common sphere
of garden or verge
spin filaments of silken strands
that catch a breeze
and unsuspecting
stranger

Call and Response: 38: Future Meeting

Where the cracks show we know the natural
petroglyphs of aging. We speak with our silence
and corners rub away to make a smoother
future meeting place.

Call and Response: # 38: Walking Stick

The last time
I saw a walking stick
I was in Umbria
trudging toward a silent
dwindling village

Italian walking sticks
are larger
hardier than this fragile wisp of insect 
reminding me it's time 
to move on

Call and Response: Day 37: Glory Holes

Two head to the edge of tree line

top of the world or at least

New Mexico where it meets

Colorado and the mountains all

have names like "Baldy" and

one ghost town merely timbers now

once housed fourteen saloons

one dance hall, and the red rivers

ran with slivers of gold

The sky was just this blue

The town was called "Midnight"

We edge toward breathlessness

Call and Response: Day 37: As The Days

as the days shorten
imperceptibly cooling
the Earth's axis
oblique and uncertain
tilted
as you turn
away

Call and Response: Day 36: Holding Tight

breath slowly release
shape gently unwinding light
hands let loose grains of sand

Call and Response: Day 36: Counting

I address this morning's letters to you

like counting houses to get back

to where we once lived

with scallop edged, minty envelopes

and leaky pens like decoder rings

raised mid-air in thought, I feed on this

remember physical addresses like counting

neighborhood blocks and scalloped clouds

on the morning's horizon, words

up over the hill unscrabbled promises

envelopes of kisses

Call and Response: Day 35: Sounding

In the waters of night

imagination's slight arms

wade through cool & dangerous

splendid & divine

We tread water, even on land,

calling and calling back

confident in the light we make

with our heads on & feet sounding for bottom

Call and Response: Day 35: Waiting For the Ferry

waiting to be taken
somewhere
anywhere else
away from
here
I am
waiting for the page
turning
I see you
as if at a distance
forgetting how close
we
once
were

Call and Response: 34: Toward Center

Tears dry long enough to spark
stalk me to strike out, to drive
toward the center

where the promise of dance
and hands holding gold
wait like sighs at the eventual

sighting
as particles re-form
around the heart

Call and Response: 34 Fridays: Sometimes Joy

sometimes joy comes in
tears as rainbows or poems
or Summer's roses

Call And Response: Day 33: Yellow Roses

yellow roses with butter petals
for hungry bees
an act of faith in flower
belief in tomorrow
and Beauty's power

Call and Response: 33: Turning

We know one another

profiles chiseled in

turn carefully at the curve

On our lips the distance between

curb and enthusiasm

history and decision

Here is the canyon road of sculpture

Here is where our mouths open

and close, and here

is where there are no words

only the art of continuing

to travel, turn and follow me

Call and Response: 32d Day: Driving It Home

often I wonder why
two small girls like you and I
never found the easy
the safe road
we drive into whiteouts
erasure
tires that will not turn
effort that will not bear fruit
no matter how
carefully we turn
the brown earth
or send word covered kites
into sky

Call and Response: 32nd Day

Resting and driving

Pressure and rainfall

Losing and finding

Resting and driving

Call and Response: 31 Days: Water

when it falls
It falls swift
the thirsty earth
when it falls
it falls hard
the dry rocks
when it falls
it falls down
the parched throat

black sky
thunder
lightning
gray sage
to
green

Call and Response: 31: No Travel Required

Who are you going to call

when everyone you love is

sleeping in the same room

with you under rain on the roof

and lifting of hesitation

Within your wide open

window heart

Call and Response: 30th Day: Mud Caldron

Paint your skin this

chocolate

mud thin like

fondue and in

the breeze

you will dry to elephant

your skin will not be

this soft again for days

your heart never so

relaxed as with rinsing

away the week, the day, the doubt

that sun will find you again

dip your hand into July's caldron

Call and Response: Day 29: HWY 5: Series

HWY 5: Series
Originally uploaded by vajra

too hot
too dry
too gold turning to brown

the signs blame liberal politicians
which is easier than accepting
that the climate
is
changing

Call and Response: Day 29: Salvage

When we least

expect, a pointer
juts out,
hitch-hiking
answer.

Everything is
salvaged.
We set off again.

Call and Response: Day 28: No Sushi Today

No fresh sushi today, or tomorrow,
I have left your city of fishing to return
to crisp dry days of green chile here

These appetizers between us
consonants and vowels that
we scatter to find our way
into and through the forest of
our edible exchange