Long Sandbars Poems

Sand in sheets
scuffing skin and reminding 
last nights attire reaks like bonfire
 a hundred days like this 
   a sea of endless laughs rolling 
     like filmreels infinitely looped...

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In his book, "Out of my life and thought" Albert Schweitzer recalls
the afternoon in a boat at Lambarene, where he first conceived
his guiding philosophy, "Reverence for Life".  The staggering
implications of such a seemingly innocuous...

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// Note - this was the graduation poem I wrote for my daughter, 
a landscape architecture major who is also a lovely poetess //


You've blessed us as you've grown from bud to blossom; 
Bright sunflower...

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Sometimes life can be like the sea when winds are calm, and the tide is right 
                  ...

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A seagull alights on the broken dock,
dull grey feathers floating
in the thick Florida summer.
It cracks its beak, shrieks to the sun,

barely risen over the bayou.
Light glitters over sandbars, silty waters,
silver fish; light reflects
sky into sea,...

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Dusty roads and fresh grass
summertime rodeos approaching fast
riding with a friend down on sandbars 

A piece of hay hanging out of his mouth
though some trapped water, out the other side
I had forgotten this wonderful life

I...

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windswept clumps of grass 
beach scattered with broken shells~ 
gulls lift on currents 

sandpipers feed along 
beach scattered with broken shells~ 
tiny legs twinkle 

shorebirds feeding on 
the tides endless offerings~
tiny legs twinkling 

each day...

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the horizon is endless
a lone ship at sea
passage for one
an intolerable feat

navigation by the stars
like the days of old
days of endless drifting
nights of rain and cold

no lighthouse to guide me
no havens on this tide
treacherous rocks...

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Between the lily pads and soft sandbars
Lay the saturated words of idle time
Among bloated carp and feisty sunfish
They linger in a sunny dampened rhyme.

Fleet Dragonflies of thought dodge darting Terns
The silent lure adrift, a bobber’s...

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A running sea
chokes the throat of a cave
then runs away
letting it breathe again.

Starfish light up
under a luminescent surf
then are pushed into sandbars
to dry-up and die.

Beach balls are swept ashore
severed hands still gripping tightly.
The image is...

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I'm one of many people with shovels in the sand.
Some even go digging the crude way by hand.
In the estuaries, it is now low tide.
There are sandbars that the waters hide.
Buried in the sand are...

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