If Tomorrow

the eve before the new year

tonight

must be this year's ending

the margin between today and tomorrow

on the verge

waiting

for this to end

and

that to begin

Concerto in E Flat Major

Trumpets

angels speak
and my heart opens
sad grandeur
grand beauty

Trumpets

Evening

cold
rain
rain

rain

it's winter

At the Movies

we sit in darkness
hoping that
images

and story

will transport us

sometimes the magic works




sometime it doesn't

Happiness

is not absence of

pain
or sorrow

is not prescence of


things
or people

it is the slight tilting of
enough

How To Prepare For Christmas

First
Clear a space





Next
{place a tree}

Then
adorn, festoon, decorate

Fourth, prepare a feast

Fifth,
invite
Guests

Last
Open the door and
leave

Afternoon

light is still
time suspended
of not yet
or later
or space
before

Withdrawn

night
lengthens at solstice

for three days at rising
Sol
Sun
seems to roll back
hesitating
to embrace
the lengthening
day

evening comes quickly
the lights glow in the pale sunset
it'a cold
and wet
the streets covered with red and gold leaves
glisten from springs refreshed by
last night's rain

Does Winter begin or end
on the Solstice?

Deep Cleaning

the sun was hidden in clouds today
rain and wind in angry gusts
which I,
rake in hand, prepared
for Winter by clearing
dead leaves
so the bricks can be washed
clean

Dark Nights Sparkle

the solstice

(the new sun)

is coming

enjoy the glorious night

while you can

A Steady Rain

It's raining

drop
by
drop

It's raining
bucket
by
bucket

It's raining
sheet
by
sheet

It's raining
cat
by
dog

Amen.

How Do You Know When Winter Has Come?

camellias bloom

hills are green with grass

moss grows between the patio tiles

dancers present The Nutcracker

trees are decorated

sometimes a star

Afternoon With A Goose

they cry lonely

across the sky
turning toward quiet lakes
sweet grass
and home

Grey Sky

wet leaves
red on wet
grey sidewalk
I wear my jacket
needing it for the first time
camera in hand
ready for a flower
if one should
appear

Darkness

waiting
for

the loooooooooooooongest night of the year

Christmas

Godot

the train

tomorrow

Loss

look at the space where it once was

look at the space where you think it should be

look in the places where you know it isn't

look  back and forth and up and down

look at the floor while walking slowly

look at the floor while walking quickly

look at your hands patting the clothing that no longer hold it



gone
hopeless
empty
lost

Breathe

breeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeethe

Humboldt

there were two
turkey vultures on a fence
beside the highway

imagine that

time

lost

found

passing

was

wasted

John Lennon - Watching The Wheels

Gray

kittens

battleships.

pewter.

hair.

clouds.

concrete.

flannel.

gardens.

steel.

Settings

Place.

Musical.

Table.

Alarm.

Eggs.

Aside.

Out.

Diamond.

Story.

Fort,

Walking

Looking at the sidewalk.
Leaves.
Underneath leaves of liquid amber hard green seedpods.
Seedpods round but not smooth.
Each pod barbed like Velcro.
Inspiration returned.
a squirrel unconcerned and fat stares unafraid.
Drivers ignore me.
I ignore drivers.
Look at them with pity.
I am walking.
Free.

When The Rain Came

First the gray like soft. Or a kitten's ear.

Then
Moist
Mist
My cloak grey. Close. Cold as warm down.

Next dark gathering. Light behind and before.

Now wet and sharp cold deep as moss or root.

Rain

Fatigue

If, after driving 4000 miles, you should feel
tired
worn
stiff
heavy
you might try


Sleep

Embracing Mathematics

Times tables.

Couples.

Pants.

Baker.

Braces.

Days of Christmas.

Blackjack.

Company.

July.

Match.

Little Peppers.

Sixes and sevens.

Enough.

Commands.

Sacraments.

Innings.

Thursdays Are for Questions

How many years does it take for a man to learn how to make a bed?

Why would anyone choose to drink weak coffee?

If the Milky Way is small, what is large?

What is it about darkness and dirt roads?

When is it time?

Who goes there?

Where is there?

If two plus two is four what is against?

Why is blue?

When will you?

And how?

This Is Not a Sketchbook

It is a storyteller.
It is a map.
It is a letter.
It is an album.
It is the first day of a project.
It is the last day of waiting.
It is the night of milk and water.
It is the beginning of the end.
It is a picture of a woman on the verge.
It is a journal.
It is the place to constrain.
It is the place to let go.
It is not a sketchbook.


Unless it is.