Doodle Restored

I have let ivy
Grow across a
Disused door.

Refraction In Twilight

Evening enters
Our garden on rails
From an easement
Between inquisitive
Eucalyptus  and
Welcome winter night.
It rolls under cloud-lit
Heights singing over
Distant ringing steel.
I hear wheels, a
Train, far away
In a promise of rain.

Pleaching For Shelter

Where time
Expands space,
We touched
Hands, joined ways,
And to that
Touch entrusted
All our days.

In Norma's Garden 2

Mutual induction, a
Production of 
Bellpeppers and
Beans and, as
To what it means, she looks at
Me and says, "Something fun."
She is done talking --I 
Am left to see this gaze
At me in evening glow
And am amazed, ahead of 
Night, that she has got
My shadows right.

Halloween Poem --Pile de Volta

Our poems are wordstacks.
Each voltaic pile,
Once read, is replaced by
Something more --why?
What do we do this for?
One forces a charge
Up a column of copper
And disks of zinc.
One arranges in proper
Order all large and small
Ideas --one thinks
And puzzles then learns
To write all over again.
Each irreducible spark
Awaits its sudden arc
From foil layers in a 
Leyden Jar, what a poem is
And what we are --ideas. 

 

Holographic Equation

Why not extend
In all directions?
Leaves rattle in nut trees.
If a shadow winks
Once, one deduces
Autumn, and all things
Hide in yellow
Light where late
Summer slipped out
A weedy gate.
Fall heals something
No one knew was injured,
Something heat can't kill.
Dreams endure and will
Always slide like a
Ouija planchette across
Seasons, not led but
Followed by reason.

"There will be no 'Keep off the Grass' signs."

[Title quote, John McClaren (b.1846--), gardener in perpetuity, Golden Gate Park]
             *******************

I am by the sea
And behind me
Is another garden--
One of McClaren's
Windpumps serving
Australian rhododendron,
Cypress,  cedar from
Lebanon-- gnarled roots
Squeezing sand into soil
In this world away, another
Land, here, under
Alien weather, rooted,
Drew life and clutched
These dunes together.