Wednesday, August 10, 2016


We learn in defining fire.
Carbon remains grow
Brains in curriculum
Derived in lives sprung
From seas, plains,
Trees --speed to escape
Velocities --wind, engines,
Sails, rockets-- tusks and
Tails dropped to the ground.
After which, sudden 
Silence, an absent 
Sound of startled
Birds, replaces words. 

Saturday, July 23, 2016


Cyclic evolution, done
And begun again:
What will be --future
And history-- at a
World's edge, this
Prospect and ledge,
After work in mass
And energy must
Pass now down a
Cypress path to the sea,
Relearn its name and
Return the way it came.

Thursday, July 7, 2016


Our way has taken us
Over sea and time.
Things that could not
Climb before storms
Broke on rocks.
We descend over
Beaten docks where
Ruin ends and 
This garden begins
Under a star.
You are near and
I love you,
Who you are, have been,
Will be --and you
Have seen these things in me.
Each moment rises forth.
Overhead, a wedge of
Geese is seeking north.

Friday, June 24, 2016

Geo.'s Solstice Poem

[First, 3 photos: "Night life at my house. All within about 1/2 hour," --Norma.]

Over our revolving lens,
Sun sends edges, silver,
Under down gray and,
At the close of day, yellow
Light turns to fire folded
And rolled in tangles.
Earth holds its pitched
Angle where gardens rise.
Refraction fills the sky.


Wednesday, June 8, 2016


Lavender quartet on our
Kitchen counter--
Spikes and drying buds, 
Bracts sing of 
Old countries, oil, infusions
Of saffron, cinnamon,
In a Song of Solomon.
I believe they grew--
Like me, like you-- where
Flowers fell among nations,
Eras, epochs, along the ancient
Iron veins of Earth, on stone--
Over broken granite bones--
Birth, birth and rebirth,
Here, where this strain sings
With its world under 
Sunlight,  under rain.

Thursday, May 26, 2016

This Garden

This garden
Belongs to no
Particular space
Or age --creation
Is not frozen in place.
Over clouds, the loud
Sun roars in its cage,
Announcing life,
Then silence. 
Then we go where
We have not been.

Thursday, May 12, 2016


On earth,
Brass bells
Hang from
Umbrella  branches.
Everything has its birth.
Rounding dawn
Dreams back its
Billion years.
Old red stars in our
Cosmic spine
Barely displace darkness
Now, persist in
Garden roses.
What disappears in
Light, shadow exposes--
From antiquity,
Remotest night,
In wind where
Little bells emit
A melody to
What is still
Suspended there.