Saturday, December 22, 2012

Sowbug On A Bowl

Who's to know what I have said? This bit of clockwork in my head
Has no after, no before and knows no more than
Clockwork knows the world.
What I have said: thoughts are compounded ages,
Noises near a cluster of gauges where
Escapement ticks, flywheels whiz, where worry and a bit of business is.
We aren't only curled around a wheel. We are a bigger deal.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

April, Point Reyes

Where sun draws all
But silver off it
And wind sends waves
Swimming marbled
Over themselves,
The sea seems an
Impossible idea.

I too am an unlikely thing,
Where a lone crow
Kites over dunes
Cawing our lone note
Into the pull of
Moon and stars.

In the roar, where
All their voices are,
I listen,
Where spray and
Turquoise coils glisten,
One impossible idea
Greets another.