Thursday, October 31, 2019
TEN THOUSAND MEANS
Ten
thousand
means
all there is –
raindrops,
women,
chances for
forgiveness.
I bow
in all
directions
and hope
ten
thousand
is enough.
Wednesday, October 30, 2019
POETS
Tuesday, October 29, 2019
AS THE GRASSES
Monday, October 28, 2019
NOT FOR YOU, / READER
Not for you,
reader,
this moment.
Not for me.
See the flower
in the breeze.
See the butterfly.
They are what
they are. They have
this moment.
Sunday, October 27, 2019
WRITING THE LAST POEM
If the
moment
waited,
I missed
it. All
that's left
is white
space where
perhaps
some words
would be.
Saturday, October 26, 2019
EVEN THE WIND
Friday, October 25, 2019
THIS IS WHERE
Thursday, October 24, 2019
POET, WALKING
Wednesday, October 23, 2019
THAT BIRD
Tuesday, October 22, 2019
LAVENDER
Monday, October 21, 2019
AS IF
Sunday, October 20, 2019
A PIGEON
A pigeon
is surprised
and flies
beneath
the trees
into
a farther
darkness.
He is
not the symbol
of anything.
Saturday, October 19, 2019
THE MOUNTAINS SPEAK
The mountains
speak with thunder.
The monk
says his prayers.
The distance
brings its silence.
The old poet
walks his poems.
We all count
our blessings
standing in
one moment.
Friday, October 18, 2019
SUDDEN MOVEMENT
Sudden movement--
the bird flies off.
That is his nature.
And soon the bird
returns to feed
again. That is
also his nature.
Thursday, October 17, 2019
DO NOT
Do not
tell us
what the
thing says.
Let the
thing have
its own
say. Let
it tell
us what
it wants.
Let it
growl in
its own
voice.
Wednesday, October 16, 2019
STILLNESS
Sit very
still. See
the ghosts
of this
world, the
motion
of the
former
hawk, the
skitter
of the
eaten
mouse, your
father
walking
to the
barn, your
mother
in the
garden.
You see
what is
when seeing
what lingers.
Monday, October 14, 2019
WE ARE AS
Sunday, October 13, 2019
SADNESS
Saturday, October 12, 2019
SOMETIMES
Friday, October 11, 2019
PHILOSOPHY
Thursday, October 10, 2019
THE SUN
Wednesday, October 09, 2019
THINKING OF LU YU'S ADVICE
Tuesday, October 08, 2019
THE COLD FLY LIVES
Yang Wan-Li
tells of a fly
on a windowsill
rubbing its legs
together in
morning sun. Chance
sighting, he said,
but now that fly will
live forever.
Monday, October 07, 2019
WE COULD PLAY
We could play
at poetry
the way men
play at war,
except not
blood shed, it
would be stars
lost to us.
Warring poets
would darken
the sky, would
lose the light
which brightens
us, and soon
we would be
as cinders
are, clinkers
in the coal
stove, burned out,
heat failing
our last breath.
Sunday, October 06, 2019
GIVE ME
Give me
the plum itself,
cool and firm.
Give me
not the idea
of woman
but the warmth
between her breasts,
that sweetness.
Saturday, October 05, 2019
THE SOUL
Friday, October 04, 2019
SOMETIMES
Sometimes
in the weeds
a loveliness.
This moment
among all
the moments.
Rain when it's
needed. Tom,
stop wanting
anything more.
Thursday, October 03, 2019
IN THEIR HEARTS
Wednesday, October 02, 2019
WHERE WE
Tuesday, October 01, 2019
MARSH-HAWK
