still a fine chair

when it was new
it was one in a crowd
of identical chairs, rows and rows,
much improved seating, heightened comfort,
but alone there, on the front step,
its age has brought it to a place
of prestige
and still a bit of cushion comfort

singing along

can't say I remember a lot about watching Mitch,
but I do remember singing along, at home, folk songs,
singing along with the one album my family owned,
using its song sheets, several copies included
in the album cover, perforated, ready to share
with others so there really could be a sing-along

Mitch Miller obituary

woven galaxies

often we think of the great
similarities between the
micro and the macro...
seeing forms in nature
that are consistent whether
between lying between
Ursa Major and Virgo
or between the
lemon and tangerine trees

another epiphany

the crape myrtle astonished me
standing there in a single ray of light
darting through the twisted oak
to fall slap hard and soft on
leaves, buds, stem, and
blooms in every stage of life

self vue

just before he left
pablo looked out of his hotel room
one more time
and shot one last foto
in the morning light
of the urban towers
at the start of
another day
in LA

(from LA-Trek)

a moment in the pacific

on the edge of the world’s largest ocean,
7,400 miles northwest west of sidney,
two sail boats pass on a saturday in june,
close to shore,
near santa monica,
and I see it
happen

(from LA-Trek)

santa monica pier

even though there are face painters and singers and
sketch-your-portrait artists, and there is a ferris wheel
and a roller coaster and more that one toss-a-ring-game,
it’s still where
bait gets cut,
hooked,
and dropped
in the pacific

(from LA-Trek.; click below for more fotos.)

our lady of the lot

Each time she appears
she calls him Manuel
even though his name
is Miguel,
and even though she
has appeared many times,
Miguel still ignores her
at least, he says, until
she stops calling him Manuel.

He says it really is the only way
to teach her.

(from LA-Trek)

Zapata...Zorba...

anthony dances
at the victor clothing store
at broadway and third;
continuous performances


(from LA-Trek)

lot going on on the back of that headrest

i watched tony testify while soaring at 30,000 feet,
he and the 767 soaring evenly, softly, over the earth,
no air-pockets, no miss-speaks, no off-course drifting,
while far below rivers meander along and mesas jut up,
and the low hum-roar of flight is lulling,
dulling the split screen’s screams

(from LA-Trek; click below for more window seat views.)

silent harbor

sometimes
that bay
can lay
so flat

inspired

the young minister
was lost for ideas for
Sunday morning’s sermon
until he took a walk
and looked for a sign

(from a few days in new orleans)

where there's magic

US 90 fords the Mississippi,
right where the snaky river
flips back on itself
so what was flowing south flows north,
its silver cantilever portals
like time gates through which
those traveling west go east
and those eastbound find themselves
bound west
and then the river is crossed
and the US ribbon of highway
continues on its way

from a few days in new orleans)

(ˈma-gə-ˌzēn)

1. A periodical containing a collection...
2. A television program that presents a variety...
3. A street running through diversity...

(from a few days in new orleans)

trois portes rouges

so much depends
on the three red doors
shuttered on Sunday morning
near Royal and St. Ann

(from a few days in new orleans)

st. louis

sitting wide open
facing the muddy river
its steeples watching
every manner of traffic
ready to receive




(from a few days in new orleans)

shared light

next door to the house
where william faulkner
lived and wrote for a year
is a pink building
with a green door
that gets splashed with
morning light everyday
but just for a moment
just as it did
when bill would
have seen it
as he passed with
the morning paper

(from a few days in new orleans)

easter flower

only the spiderwort
brings such joy to me, makes me
smile and stand in awe
at today's fresh blooms
and the infinite promise
of infinite more,
there will be no end,
there will always be more life,
it's easter's promise

equinox dusk

spring's first end-of-day
laid gold light across the lake,
igniting broom straw,
lighting up pines like green neon,
drinking in cool blue

Friday, 1:14pm

spring’s invitations
come in many tempting forms;
the anole offered
an afternoon of warm naps,
but I had to work