Journey: Day 2: Orchids

the bright pink orchids
clustered on the sidewalk
all we need is frogs

About This Place #1

Who spilt the pink ink?

The sky here, a hurricane

of eyelid fluttering

drive-by color

Everything they told you

about this place.

Pilgrimage: Day 1: Roses

walking to the bank
I spy a rose bush blooming
sunset on a twig

Finally, resolution

You are at home tonight on a far West

coast with lemonade and tentative

buds calling for Spring

Here the rapid railcars will soon be

crossing, our windows busy with defrost

The year

will end chilly for us inland, southwest

as we idle in forgettable pauses

attempting to resurrect

promises we failed to keep in the passing

Next time I will hitch instead of drive

next time as

poems arrive in fitful dreams.

Pilgrimage: Day 52: The Last Day

the day before
the last day
of the year
the aisles of the grocery
store
the sidewalks of the city
streets
are crowded
there is a slight movement
toward sunlight
toward soft furry buds
on trees
toward camellias
and magnolias
bursting into pink and white
fervor
toward
hope

of the Season

Outside it's the slip of tires

against streets as the snow

is visible as streetlights blink on

as the train crosses the intersection

and the evening promises a star

As the silences find a way in

and the piano is tuned for

the coming of the sound of humans

praying and a cup of tea

steeping, fork against plate

Pilgramage: 51: Coffee