Short Shoaling Poems

Night is still in its diving bell.

Turn over the body-heat,
tuck head into a shoaling mind.

You imagine the window, the drapes,
the walls, the round walls
all fish-eyed and rising.

February eats whatever fat
the dawn carries with it.

Space fountains are thawing
in the drip of reality.

It is still too cold
for blood to be naked....

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Snow shoaling o'er the frozen land,
biting, bitter cold; broken branches 
stretched like fingers pointing nowhere 
in particular articulate the miseries 
of winter's stranglehold. 

Spring seems a light year gone,
her gentle breath a dream, but green 
shall conquer white and overcome 
its crushing hold when the crocus 
once reveals her lovely sheen!...

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Snow shoaling o'er the frozen land,
biting, bitter cold; broken branches 
stretched like fingers pointing nowhere 
in particular articulate the miseries 
of winter's stranglehold. 

Spring seems a light year gone,
her gentle breath a dream, but green 
shall conquer white and overcome 
its crushing hold when the crocus 
once reveals her lovely sheen!...

Read More

Snow shoaling o'er the frozen land,
biting, bitter cold; broken branches 
stretched like fingers pointing nowhere 
in particular articulate the miseries 
of winter's stranglehold. 

Spring seems a light year gone,
her gentle breath a dream, but green 
shall conquer white and overcome 
its crushing hold when the crocus 
once reveals her lovely sheen!...

Read More

Snow shoaling o'er the frozen land,
so biting, bitter cold; broken branches 
stretched like fingers pointing nowhere 
in particular articulate the miseries 
of winter's stranglehold. 

Spring seems a light year gone,
her gentle breath a dream, but green 
shall conquer white and overcome 
its crushing hold when the crocus 
once reveals her lovely sheen....

Read More

Snow shoaling o'er the frozen land,
so biting, bitter cold; broken branches 
stretched like fingers pointing nowhere 
in particular articulate the miseries 
of winter's stranglehold. 

Spring seems a light year gone,
her gentle breath a dream, but green 
shall conquer white and overcome 
its crushing hold when the crocus 
once reveals her lovely sheen!...

Read More

lights flicker on the far side
as Kentucky folds its dark robes

a barge nudges
the river into dusk

bundles of clouds kindle

a shimmering pause

the river opens its body
to swallow the sun

knee deep in shadow
a heron yawps 

silver fish ripple through
shoaling branches

here on a crooked pier
spawning stars surface
from the milky eyes
of the recently drowned...

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This night a yellow moon
stalks root and branch.

There’s a waving sagebrush breeze
to twitch wary whiskers
The star salted fields
and dark wooded islands
merge in a wash
of shoaling shadows.

Fox and rabbit are awake;
they sniff or tremble,
yet celebrate each warm breath.

This night plants flames
in covered eyes,
and we feel the high
dangerous joy
of all that hunt and hide....

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The date and time on a digital clock
sings me a sotto voce halleluiah
as I roll over on the surf
of a shoaling shore.

This is how a poem arrives,
In a leaky boat loaded with refugees
all arriving at once.
Some refuse to shout out,
some clamor for attention.

The voices come nearer.
I am multilingual
in a non-vocal way.

When the birds sing out,
the sky will be born again,
and the Maker will make coffee,
then write something 
with my hand....

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