a beautiful night

swooping calling walking flitting
around me, around the bridge
around the makeshift bird feeder
in the green woods
seven different kinds of birds
a cardinal a redwing blackbird
two chickadees a starling
other birds in shades of purples blues blacks
ducks in pairs and groups
and squirrels, swinging to catch the feeder
moving in conscious patterns
beings everywhere!

the man with a spade on the path
by the stream
calls 'beautiful night, isn't it?'
who knows what he and his mother
are digging from the streambed?

at the end of the path
a long haired cat sits on a fallen tree
rising from a sea of yellow green
and tiny flowers
eyes open, watching me
eyes close, in sleep

this is the night i fall in love again
i was waiting for it
and now it is here
a country you stumble upon
once you stop traveling
for the sake of finding

handle with care

not afraid of being hurt again
but still being hurt
i choose not to kiss you today

the magnolia blossom you picked for me
is wilting
but in my mind's eye
hundreds of dancing blossoms
against a blue spring sky

an anxious week

every early morning
7:30 sunlight

the bed is shaking
it is my heartbeat
and my organs
my life in motion

far away
industry sighs and speaks

above and below
bodies move in space

life in motion

sound rises
while this body rises

the mind sleeps
and tosses in its dreaming
restlessly

drive all blames into one

early spring, early morning

a tossing warm night
a strange but familiar feeling in the throat
as pollen explores the spring
the cat is wild
under the influence of
open windows

wake and sleep
sleep and wake

7:30 am
it's very cold in the living room
the reddish sun coming up over the city
i come awake
reading the last words of the buddha:

All conditioned things are subject to decay. Strive with diligence.

conversation

running across a blue evening
between trees and her apartment building
on dry grass
a lone sparrow singing
a twilight song

happy like fear and freedom
like a deer in the wind

our conversation changed everything

two visitors this weekend

1.

seeing you again
after so long
what can i write about that?

the day was cold in the morning
and then sunny in the afternoon
i was outside all day
in the rustling woods in the pale morning
on the dry grass in the mid day sunshine
in the sun and shadow of the patio
near the day's ending

i wondered if i would become sick
from exposure
from the light on things hidden during the winter
but i was only tired
by the time of evening dimness

How I wish, how I wish you were here

march 25 2010 will only happen one time that i know of

dog's bum wiggling a little with every step

girl watching a red wing blackbird

sparrow catching several twigs in his beak for a nest

my eyes caught today in brief suchness