S*P*A*C*E
Speak no more
of quarks and charms
It is all dark matter
between you and
my arms
Monthly Archives: August 2008
THE SPELL OF TEXAS
THE SPELL OF TEXAS
Every writers dream
moving a few
letters around
to get at sex
BEV’S BACKYARD
BEV’S BACKYARD
Reading old haiku
Mind becomes pond-still
Basho’s frog jumps in
Hundred foot oak
becomes a bonsai
GALVESTON MORNING
GALVESTON MORNING
In slow formation
lunch boxes under their bills
pelicans off to work
HOMESTEADER’S GRAVE
HOMESTEADER’S GRAVE
Homesteader’s grave
soft blanket of November snow
white on Gray’s Elegy
HOMESTEADERS’ CABINS
HOMESTEADERS’ CABINS
Homesteaders’ cabins
ghosts of courage and hope
wind through their ribs
SHADOWS
SHADOWS
Living in the west
shadows of
my horse
and hat
following
me home
INNOCENCE LOST
INNOCENCE LOST
Smoking behind tree
lying to your mother
innocence is lost
NO GHOSTS
NO GHOSTS
In the new lands
the new houses
have no ghosts
This is a matter
of great relief
and sadness
THE SAME AGE
THE SAME AGE
Grateful now to be
the same age as Satchel Paige
neither one knowing