when the winter comes
the sunlight over the snow
heaven fell to earth
grayish, frozen sky
a bitter wind howls at night;
snowy, hushed footfall
Half snake, half human
Fuxi repaired the heavens;
Gong Gong broke the sky
Desolation in
the wood. The winter moon shows
only death tonight.
The snow keeps falling
Flakes that land without a sound
Are they yours or mine?
man versus nature
like a child against parents
young and ignorant
one day spring appears--
dirt, sun, rain, the tilt of Earth--
it lives beyond words
westward setting sun
the moon rising right on time
one crow, my night friend
the red hound glares sharp
across the frozen river
coyote grins back
ice shards bite elm twigs
catch shine from jupiter who
chances the sun's wake
Eskimos have more
Than thirty words for snow, soon
They'll need just one; gone
thunderless lightning
sparks in emerald valley
the dance of fireflies
long lost relative
sister seal swims on her side
heartbeat of the sea
Picasso blue sky
leaking total solitude
out of the guitar.
bent grass tells of flood,
spent before the morning sun
frogs croak for their mates
A Cloud of blood swirls
In a cup of hot water
Bug in my body
June breezes blowing,
red-winged black birds on cattails,
practicing tai chi.
unabashed voyeur
solemn keeper of secrets
moon smiles crookedly
Crying a Monsoon ~
Would still not bring my Parched Earth ~
Back to fruitful Bloom
Aging white cement
Peeking over great black clouds
Old moon's glowing scalp
For ten years I write
one poem. Now, pale winter
snow edits my lines.
Christmas carolers
singing about peace on earth
the sound of sirens
The sound of wind chimes
beyond the garden's darkness
her whispered laughter
golden courtesan
sipping wine of laughter sets
the west wind astir
jade on a mountain
never fades, always treasured
love remembers all
harvest moon aglow
long witchy fingers reach out
brittle leaves tango
Winter willow waves
opaled arms, bearing weight, white
of innocent snow.
Snow falls on lake's shore.
Winter fingers work magic,
turn water to ice.
fenceline hackberry's
yellowing leaves drift downward
into Wild Horse Creek
summer's fragile reeds
now ice-layered bend to write
our names in the snow
The horizon blurs
Mars red dust floats, chokes the birds
Lubbock, Texas sky
Your eyes speak volumes
I feel the sea rush in when
my ears fail to hear.
A window held closed
wind rattled against its skin
the cold pane quivers
thunder claps bellow
nature in baritone voice
ground reverberates
We think we know much.
Fact shares space with prejudice:
garden flaunting weeds.
Mist drapes oak branches
Moon's light casts subdued shadows
Crickets call... it's night.