Sunday, September 29, 2019


 (Photo is an unintended companion-piece to Camanche Lake 1969. Associative mentation and time tend to play such pranks.)

Shutting The Door Behind Me
Unlike some sentients,
I close the door behind me
But do not open a window.
I have found snakes in
The pumphouse, and the
Odd mouse, both begging
To be let out --and I do.
But descendants return
After many generations,
(About two days for us)
And repeat history, and
We defeat the mystery. 
Sentience means we must.
So shut windows and doors.
The universe you save is yours.

Tuesday, September 10, 2019

My Hero of Point Reyes, 1965

We arrived, a '63 Chevy
In morning mist and
Insisted we wade out
As one into the sounding 
Sea --Drake's Bay.
The day was hot and we
Rejoiced under sun
Into night then hiked
Back up, to a note
On the windshield:
"You left your lights
On this morning, so
I disconnected the battery--
Ranger Dave." We
Found a half-inch crescent
Wrench under the hood
And surmised we,
And an angel, dived
Into the same wave.