For Protestors in Portland

violent wind

the tree

                             b   

                     e

               

               n

             

           d

       s 

yet doesn't break

coffee meditation:

the scree---ee--
              ch--ing sound of a hedge cutter

shatters this new morning

New red car:
a shower of sparrows
painting it a gray-white

IN BETWEEN

End like the
beginning,
a chatter chorus of sparrows
greets me this morning,
this final day of the first month:
only 334 days until Christmas
and
all

that

comes

in-

between

PAIN IN THE A**

nearing the end of January
this cold month
slipping gracefully into another
month of winter
tumbles slowly from my thoughts
landing flat
and
hard
on its ass

OLD WINDOW

the flicker
of a candle
fades
flickers then fades again;
this cold wind
again finds the cracks of this old window

CHASING BOREDOM: A FOLLOW UP

the Monday after Sunday's boredom:
like the cold,
the boredom doesn't let up and
I find myself envying 
my cat's lazy lounging
on the warm floor
standing here in this cold winter

CHASING BOREDOM

as the cats chase
each other and their tails,
a 'dust bunny' flies past me
I chase my boredom
with
fervent
concentration

SHADOW

this bleak snowy winter afternoon
my shadow lingers
by lamp light

OWNERSHIP

From COLD MOUNTAIN POETS:

 From Poem X  
 Fly, and all that's blue is yours.
And yet, on foot, the mud's
all yours to muddle onward in
                              Wang Fan-Chih

walking inside from 
my front lawn,
boots full of mud--
mud
I 
own 

 

NUMB

Here again
writing about the cold,
my fingers numb;
in a warm room
yet
to feel my fingers

ABUNDANCE

the silence of an evening snow storm--
as I step into its wind
and sink into its cushion-like blanket,
as it wraps itself around
my boots & dampens the skin I thought was hidden,
I
yearn
for
an
autumn
day
&
the
barren
breeze
stripped
of
this
abundance

FLEETING

 Receive the world in your arms
                     from Tao Te Ching #28


On this cold day
this naked
     tree
full of      s    p   a     r  r   o   w   s
and
not a sound
for a brief moment:
a fleeting thought
of
summer sun

TEASE

Warm a day
then
the next
more cold~~~~
then more cold~~~~~~~~~~~~
then more cold~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
and
my lips can't stop quivering

LIST

We like lists because we don't want to die.
Umberto Eco
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/lists.html#6UGOGIAzLiHEoxQq.99

 We like lists because we don't want to die
                              Umberto Eco

We like lists because we don't want to die.
Umberto Eco
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/lists.html#6UGOGIAzLiHEoxQq.99

We like lists because we don't want to die.
Umberto Eco
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/lists.html#6UGOGIAzLiHEoxQq.99

a sparrow
an old hidden leaf under the snow pile
a thin sheet of ice on the puddle in the road
forecast for cold rain
my new heated steering wheel
a sparrow
a cat  looking at the sparrow
both shiver
three more months until Spring
the car starts
another day toward Spring
a sparrow
Here I sit in the cold
the sparrow flies away
no sparrow
I sit, still cold

REFUSAL

This water-logged day

 '        '

     '            '        

'           '         '

  '

       '

   '

uneventful

but for the small pile of snow

that just won’t 

melt!

BALLET

Pizza delivery man
s               l        i                     p      s
on ice
the ballet of a whirling dervish
in this frozen city

RHYTHM

Listening
to Mozart's rhythms,
the hard rain on my windshield
joins
in the chorus

COMIC REMINDER

even my headband left on a stonewall somewhere,
I let the pine winds ruffle my hair
       From "SUMMER DAYS IN THE MOUNTAINS"
       Li Po

This snow-filled, windy morning,
feeling the strong city wind
ruffle my few strands 
of what was once
a full head of hair
lost 
in a distant winter fog
of memory 

STILLNESS

I dream of a rose
that will not blossom:
the stillness
of
this
bitter
cold

ENVY

now
watching TV,
I watch a math savant
calculate
a complicated equation
while
I
try
to remember
why I came into the room 

BULLET

the deep cold wind
and
still the sparrow
flies at bullet speed
past
my window

SLIP

cold winter rain

a thin sheet of ice steers me

in a direction I’d

                                        a

                                     r           th         e

                                                                          r               not goooooooooo

RAW

a sparrow bangs

against the door window and falls,

our outside cat flings toward it, scooping

the sparrow

into its mouth—

how much deeper this raw cold

deepens

SAME OLD QUESTIONS

"All life long, the same questions, the same answers."

-- Samuel Beckett (1906-1989), Endgame

Three days now

since the New Year started

and the same drooping plant

 droops

 even

lower

THE LITTLE IT TAKES

even this slight snow
mutes
the
 s p                   
      a   r            
             r      o    w     chorus
outside my frozen window

STILL LEARNING

Yes, Mother. I can see you are flawed. You have not hidden it. 
That is your greatest gift to me.                      
                        Alice Walker, American author, poet and activist

for Jane Rader (1930-2013)

Waking

this new year’s day:

the deep cold

deeper still

remembering,

living

her gift to me