The silver mirror learns what night can keep,
While autumn whispers through the falling leaves;
What wakes within the darkness while we sleep?
A moonlit question troubles the deep,
And gathers where the quiet water weaves;
The silver mirror learns what night can keep.
The stars descend their staircase toward the steep
Reflections d r i f t i n g underneath the eaves;
What wakes within the darkness while we sleep?
A single owl turns secrets in its sweep,
Its shadow crossing silvered fields and sheaves;
The silver mirror learns what night can keep.
Who taught the moon its patient watch to keep?
Who taught the wind the language that it leaves?
What wakes within the darkness while we sleep?
The lake lies still beneath the hill's dark sweep,
Yet something stirs the image it receives.
The silver mirror learns what night can keep,
What wakes within the darkness while we sleep?
I’m a Deadhead
Despite so many years of misgivings
So many hours wandering
Wondering what the hell am I doing
Listening yet again
Despite so many decades now drug free
Again and again back I come
Drawn in by some quality
Which only today
Fifty years on in my headstrongness
I can finally see
What pulls us in and binds us down
Is not so much the driving laid-back grooves
Or open-ended looping leads
And uncanny jams willing to bravely go
Where no band had ever gone before
As simply Garcia’s tone and phrasing
Both with his guitar strings and vocal chords
A lilting, yearning, aspiring, soulful sound
Striving to reach what is inherently beyond reach
Beyond grasp, but clearly there
Right there before us in the dark
Shining, shimmering, waiting, welcoming
An inevitable reunion
With an ineffable ground
(9/23/26)
amber leaf falls free;
the branch remembers holding
what cannot return.
Tasting
unwalled humanity.
People understanding
how it was meant to be.
A world coexisting.
Handshakes,
respect, and a hello.
Kindness is all it takes
to turn things to mellow.
Vile hostility breaks.
Melted
mistakes blur into peace
as the stars’ sparkles spread.
Explosive flames will cease
transforming the bloodshed.
Brand-new
brings about the return
to a tranquil virtue.
Calm continues to burn
that certain shade of blue.
I wandered out beneath late-summer skies,
a blue so wide it felt like open thought.
The road before me stretched in quiet sighs,
inviting me toward places wonder sought.
A compass rested lightly in my hand,
its needle trembling as if it could feel
the pull of distant paths across the land~
those whispered routes the heart keeps half-concealed.
I followed where it pointed, mile by mile,
past fields still holding sunlight in their seams,
each turn a question, each new step a smile
that rose like wind through half-remembered dreams.
And when the day leaned softly into night,
my wandering felt shaped by blue-tinged light.
I remember the gold that late summer keeps~
not in the fields, but in the soft corners
where light settles without asking.
A lantern rests there~
its glass warm from the day,
holding the small shimmer of evenings
that never learned how to leave.
Memory moves through it gently,
a slow-burn brightness
that refuses to dim even when the air cools.
I lift the lantern,
feeling its weight like a promise
that hope can be carried
even when the path is quiet.
Outside, the sky leans toward autumn,
but the gold stays~
a thin, steady amber
teaching memory how to glow without burning.
To let my heart at ease,
I let the squeaky wheel get the grease.
Two wheels held up the very same cart,
While I wore thin and slowly fell apart.
Told that caring wasn't your love's part,
You mastered to hit the heart with a dart.
The silences you gave me were so loud,
Guess I was just a dot in your crowd.
You used me, bruised me, left me unseen,
Too weak to ask what my wounds could mean.
Now cart is yours, so go your way,
No one is left to sway.
The Ferris wheel pierces cloudlight,
its topmost arc alone in the pale sky.
A single cabin glints, breathless and suspended.
Fascination rises — thin, bright, still.
crimson squirrel, adventurous summer
bought a book said, 'your life could be calmer~'
so in peaceful delight
he read day into night,
didn't gather nuts (his autumn bummer).
blue stood in the quiet like a shard of clarity,
thin as breath on glass,
catching the day in its single, lucid edge
In the pretty pink sand I sit,
on a tropical island that is sunlit.
The blue water is very calm,
in the distance with a huge black palm.
The clouds are taking a break,
no rain for the weather's sake.
I love there is no time here,
my alarm clock can bring me no fear.
Dreams are taking me far away,
I want to stay for another day.
Poetry Wheel Says......
Theme: Dreams
Emotion: Calm
Color: Black
Season: Tropical
Form: Couplet
Object: Clock
Verb: Break
The wheel is fast, and it never stops. There are many thoughts that are racing, some at the same time, some competing with each other.
Negative self talk always comes in first, with impending doom coming second.
Laying in bed trying to sleep, the thoughts don’t creep, they gyrate. Aggressively, impulsively, gyrate.
You can try to fight it, “you’re amazing, you’re awesome, don’t let these thoughts win”
But in the end the wheel never stops.
When will I learn, the wheel doesn’t ask for permission.
It just spins.
Thin scars
now appear so faded.
They mirror iron bars
old yet decorated.
I connect scattered stars.
Branded,
these marks give me away.
If I’m being candid,
lines hold what I can’t say.
Brute force was demanded.
Upon
a wish the light dances,
here and then it is gone.
The roughness romances,
giving strength to build on.
My skin,
delicate mosaic
painted by where I’ve been.
Whichever one you pick?
It’s story leaves a grin.
Planting a seed
Blooming courage indeed
Looking up to the sky
Not considering, time to die
Knowing heavens are there
Protection from the crows who scare
Reading books filled with studies
Asking, how much money?
Trusting powers that be
Truth will see
Sun shining bright
An illuminating sight
When break time arrives
Reason to sigh
Showing a path
Towards the bath
Sweat well spent
Cultivating investment
Heat saying goodbye
Autumn leaves fly
Seasoned to perfection
Ready for collection
Harvest pay received
Graciously, I believe
Joyful thanks
Leaving the bank
No longer fearful and blue
Cash in hand is cool
Barreling pork
Work
Done
Time for fun
Spending
Since holiday season is pending
Intimidation threats are gone
Since courageous honesty is the new dawn
oceans remember
the crimson spring -
with longing
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