dock

conversation with a grapefruit

I was not ready
for that moment

when suddenly
your bitterness
gave way
to honey

lady, you knew
when you
peeled back my skin

that I was a mystery

your acid
made my heart shrink

but you were seeking
sweetness

do not lie

it is the fear of sharpness
that caused my eyes
to close

so
in that instant
when your hidden colors
blossomed on my tongue

I wept

why is that?

for the cells
in my being
that slept

lavender "Kiku" (chrysanthemum)

this body

temple
etched by the sun

who built you

whose love
shaped your arches and rafters

whose cry
called you into being

and what sound
needed a home
so badly

temple
carved by the wind, fissured
but standing

this body, still bearing
its creators name

orchid arches

This was part of the NY Botanical Garden's Orchid Show--a tribute to Singapore! This is only a small part of the show--there were a series of similar arches to walk under...

words

I want to send you
a world of music

but all I have are words

words like scouts
in single file

soft as leaves
brushing your window

if you close your eyes
they are
in harmony

maybe

kayaks resting

in the pieces

come play

here where the ice
has hardened
on the bay

where frost
scatters itself

like ticker-tape
hurled onto
a parade

look
under your feet
for treasures of marble

cloverleaves,
flakes of confetti

beside the broken
ocean
that will not be mended

come play
with me
in the pieces

pink orchids

do roses

do roses
get lonely

does the sky
even notice

while you search for fire
in those cold grains
of soil

does anyone care
for your painted edges
the color of love

or the force of your blood
that breathes grace
from every pore

is it enough
that I see you

or is there another reward
for beauty

Esopus Creek with snow

click on the picture to be there...

Winter is

Winter is
your gift to me

wonder
of a world
turned to glass

voices
stilled to
crystal chimes
and whispers

not the comfort
I would seek

but here you meet me
shy, silently

reaching out

to gild the edges
of shattered ice

the dunes
that crack under my step

stroking, slipping over
white waves
as if your hand were a mirror

it is now
when the earth has no breath
to block your light

and the wind burns away my skin
that you can touch me

shakuhachi player

This is a wandering musician, in the NY Botanical Garden "Kiku" show

Granite

Granite wall
you sparkle
in silence

each sculpted shoulder
balanced
between two others

how do your
sun-burnished faces
seem to float
in the dim light
as if lifted

while I sink

inscrutable stones
something inside you
must not
seek happiness

but rises
with each rainbow

having cast off your wishes
like iron
long ago

star angel

lighting the wick

they say
blue
is the invisible
color
of the sun

a flame burning
stronger
at its base

hottest
when unseen

blue
steady
under those brazen
yellow sprouting
fingers

are you
hiding
blue

can I touch
you
with my
heart