Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Monday, June 27, 2011

A Discourse

the common egret dressed
  in the blinding white
  robes of the sage
lifts into the air,

  rises and circles,
  circles again

turns into the wind.
  a wind that matches
  the lift of its body,

pauses two feet off the ground,
 five seconds stolen from eternity,

flexes one feather and
  settles to the ground,

completing its discourse
  on the floating bird
  theory of the universe.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

bagofants

My life is like a bag of ants, inside it’s chaos but outside it hums.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Blue

The sky is blue
such an obvious statement
but in the desert the universe
   is summed up by
   blue and not-blue.
the earth floats in a bowl of blue

My eye follows the ridge line
   trying to find any sign,
   any blur where the hills start
   to exchange their chocolate brown
   for the mantle of blue
the edge is a razor
   it is one or the other, blue or not-blue
I cannot look at that edge
   and breathe at the same time.

A scientist who says that blue is
   a certain wave length of light
   has not been to the desert
if you think my shirt is blue,
if you think her eyes are blue,
   you have not been to the desert

Anything that you can imagine
   is not-blue
my life, my body, my history
   is not-blue
I cannot conceive of blue
but there it is ….


Friday, June 17, 2011

A Question

What is it about the song of the thrush in the morning that holds the world from flying apart?