Tuesday, September 18, 2012


you decided to say yes
and sensed now
and believed possible,
this road is yellow brick

you say yes
just so luck
will unwind from
bone and tendon
it felts new geography
like moss to stone

and now
yes twins no
work twins play
bliss twins sorrow
all side by side
kith and kin

when you find river
yes rims the banks
it rides a downpour
fills the well
and rises
deep and clear

worry is an old cat
let it nap in the sun
what vexed you
drink like silver song
how dusty a traveler you were
now you open like a door
hinges oiled – it’s ok        
life is ready and vast
a kudzu invasion
a mayfly hatch
each moment a menu
today is hungry
a Serengeti plain
and your legs are long
wings wide - don’t wait
kiss the road of yellow brick
make it yours with yes.

Monday, September 17, 2012

Winter Cottonwoods

Well, I made you take time to look at what I saw…” – Georgia O’Keeffe

she paints the canvas
Winter Cottonwoods East V -
it’s a thrifty landscape
burnt umber
raw sienna
mars brown
it adores assumptions
of sleeping sap,
her alabaster basks us
in the fresh winter light -
with breath of gray
trees fill the thin air,
each knobby body
surrenders its precise edge
like fabric fraying
in steady wind -
their stomata breaths
quench a thirsty sky.

o’Keeffe lives in painted canvas
Winter Cottonwoods East V,
I'm inspired with the landscape
burnt umber
raw sienna
mars brown
I’m flush with
sandy canyons,
weedy with tammarisk
smudged with sage, and
grateful for my assumptions
of the Cumberland Rim -
I swap the mirror
over my bed for
her naked cottonwoods
in open sky,
they quench a soul
thirsty for such thrift.