WAKE TURBULENCE
Deep in the night the great horned owl
strokes silence with silence
If you land a small plane behind a 747
(Don’t land a small plane behind a 747)
If you land a small plane behind a 747
the invisible vortex from its wingtips
can toss you back into the air
or slap you hard into
the ground
Behind the great owl
the softness of its passing hangs in the air
INDIAN RIVER, ONTARIO 2004
Above waterfall
In circle of highest pine
green showers down
By the waterfall
body rests in hammock
cells rush to the sea
Below waterfall
power beyond soap and rub
washes off city
Lying by the bank
trees holding blue hammock
lift it to the sky
Indian River
Great Blue Heron stands
wise Tibetan monk
A PRAIRIE VILLANELLE
If prairie wheels again had I
I’d chew the gravel and the air
with prairie roads to fly
I’d plume the earth into sky
to show them I was there
If prairie wheels again had I
Past placed where dead neighbours lie
I’d not linger, who would dare
with prairie roads to fly
Dust to dust gets in your eye
I’d look for other things to share
if prairie wheels again had I
Then greener farmyards I’d pass by
in mem-mirages free of care
with prairie roads to fly
I’d roll past all that makes you cry
afloat I sunsets clear and fair
in prairie wheels again had I
with prairie roads to fly
PINCHER CREEK ALBERTA
Mid June and Cowboy Poets back in town
voices hoarse from long winters silence
And a thousand and more are here to hear
for the poets have been listening all year
Listening to the cattle and the coyotes
and the Northern Lights at nights
And they have been reminded
and being reminded they remember
and remembering they come here to remind
And just listening we remember
and unwind
AWAY FROM THE BUILDINGS
To the North is the ranchland
a soft cloth crumpled
To the South ironed
flat and stretched tight
to the treeless shores of the legend lake
And there is a difference in the day
when you stay in the flatlands
or go up into the hills
HOME MADE ICE CREAM
When I was five we lived on a ranch
still forty miles and forty years
away from electric power
We only got to eat ice cream
when hail lay deep enough on the ground
to be scooped into the old hand mixer
Many a hot evening in August and July
five of us sat on those hard ranch steps
looking out at the Western sky
Watching the black clouds and the grey
building and rolling our way
Silently praying our protestant Hail Marys
four for and Dad against
THE CROCUS
Loud crows and bright robins
promise an early spring
But they are of the sky
and can be easily fooled
Only the crocus
knows
BARN SWALLOWS
They swoop
from beneath the eaves
Carving
an invitation
to the big red ship
Come slip your moorings
and follow us across the sea
LAKE LOUISE TO JASPER
Poet struck dumb
by the folly of throwing
a word against a mountain
PHOENIX
Cactus on horizon
hands up in surrender to the sun