Into the Core: Many Pilgrims Here

Hand turning the lathe of the poem
in the furnace. Feeling the heat.

License to burn away the irrelevant.
Permission to breathe life into the core.

Dark

At times the dark
is self imposed.
The argument,
a summer storm;
lightning as you 
sit alone inside 
your car.

Horizon is but distance.
Windshield as armor.
Lightning that will hit
or miss. Sometimes 
the dark is 
self imposed.

Requiem

we say remember
remember but soon forget
stillness repose thought
escape into evening
fade into dream
no time for memory in morning

Enduring Vertigo

In your right ear, Mother, impacted lymphatic fluid
roars, sings to you the familiar strains of Carousel
and the carnival barker 
absent until the end when
he comes back to earth to bring his daughter a star.

Pilgrimage: Mid-July:Bliss

sitting at Jericho Beach
the last apricot clouds fade
to pink then slate
while the sun chases itself
into the Bay
listening to Lucinda Williams
singing her heart out

it doesn't get much better than this

Effervescence

she will not return
that light in the evening when
music melted onto
and you melted into
and we will not return
to passion as salty as champagne
and bubbles disappearing
on the tongue
the taste of you
or your smile
and you will not return
I do not wish for today's return
only that perfect yesterday
that will not return

Garden

the earth turned over
to encircle the peonies
no need for anything but dirt and root
add a hope for sunshine
and the strength to battle
wicked morning glories