POEMS ON A DARK POND

CALENDAR DAYS

calendar on the wall
where the days all crawl

there is a picture
of hills and sea
pale browns and blues

and I am reaching for news
of a ship
trapped somewhere

by haze and calendar days
locked inside each square
with it’s number and name

but who knows
where I’ll be

when the day
is a last number
on this calendar?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BIRTHDAY BOY

it is fifty two outside,
fifty two degrees
fifty two rings
on the tree.

is it winter
or summer?
am I in leaf
or naked?

is it fifty two
above or below?
have I come
full circle
around the rim
of a zero

to stare at
five decades
of past
or two decades
of future?

both are obscure
to me,
lost in mist.

there is a patch
of sunlight,
where I am
standing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

KING OF COLOR

this evening
at the edge of the sky
great towers
of cloud
blushed
as the sun
slashed it’s way
to the night.

they are ruled
by the king of color
his throne
empty now
and dark
the royal colors
faded
to a common grey
the cloth
of peasants

the clouds
hide among
the hills
and stir
as silent shadows
darken
the valley

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

VAST AVENUES

vast avenues
vast trees
the branches naked
like the streets
it is cloudy,
I like that,
the way the light
is so varied
and the avenue
has a dull sheen
from previous rain

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

STONE MAN

you are a stone man
pebbles for eyes,
made of the stuff
of mountains.
head in the clouds
for millennia.
eyes colored
by blue sky
and your heart
and feet
resting
on tectonics.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SPACE DINER

his bitterness
pressed up against him
like a knife.
he must watch
his step,
no stumbling on a dark night.
there was death
tucked inside his belt.

the wind was up
and throwing
dish rag clouds
at the moons face.
a flash feeling,
like a flash flood,
swept down.
some ancient rains
carried here
from a time
when hills could melt
and hearts were still wet.

he took a pan
of cold water-
put it on the sun to boil.
whipped up some mashed potato
turn down the sun now,
turn it down low.
I have had enough
of being alone.

we’ll dine out tonight
on starfish and crab nebulae
finish off with
a milky way shake
‘till Orion’s
belt gets tight.
he swallowed too many stars.
finish with cream
and strawberry Mars.
then into
the drawing room
of space
for brandy and cigars.

moon cheese
and crackers
on celestial plates,
on a table
of nothing but
darkness and
fates.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CROSS

you have many replicas.
they hang
from windows
walls
and people.
golden domes,
pointed steeples.

some are white
and scattered
in the fields
like dragons teeth.
some are marble
or stone.

whatever tree bore you
was the greatest tree
of all.

you were once a seed
from a seed
from a seed
which sprang
from a tree
in paradise,
somewhere
in a golden
virgin forest.

a seed that floated
upon Noah’s flood.

maybe
you came
from an olive tree,
carried as a leaf
in the beak of a white dove

the fellers found you
cut you down
fashioned you
into a God trap
stained you
with vermilion,
the blood of Christ.
the tree of death
and of life

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~