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WINTER MEMORY
As a child I know the wintersmust have been milder, as itwas never too cold to have my parentstake is to Sheridan Park wheremy father would drag the oldwooden toboggan up the chuteadjacent to the stairs as we ran ahead,and smile as we hurtled downseeing how far we could goacross the snow packed runway. After…
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BATTLESHIP
As a child I played Battleshipon a square grid, the ships markedby hand, one for each of the players,we were efficient by necessity. My sons played Battleship, thoughunder a different name in deferenceto my hatred of things martial,on an electrically wired board. My grandchildren haven’t yetdiscovered the game, now playedon their iPads and iPhones, but…
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MELODY
I sing a shattered songof someone else’s youththe melody forgottenthe words faded into oddsyllables heard in my dreams.The coyote stands at the edgeof a gully staring at meand wondering why I slipfrom the hogan throughthe hole punchedin the back wallslinking awayin the encroaching dark.The priest, his saffron robespulled tight around his legsin the morning chill,stares…
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NEXT IN LINE
It was the moment they said, we picked you, that I knew they had not. They thought they had to say it. They knew they shouldn’t. I was the next gumball down the chute. You put in your nickel, move the lever and wait. Actually it wasn’t quite like that. If you don’t like the…
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THE GIRL COMES OUT 無門關 四十二
She sits undisturbedShakyamuni by her side.You can wave at her, shewill pay you no mind. You cannot grasp her mindand maintain a holdon your own, you will growdeaf from the chatterbut a child can curlat her feet and shewill stroke his foreheadin perfect Samadhi. A reflection on case 42 of the Mumonkan (Gateless Gate) koans.
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A STEP TOO FAR
He knew, the minute he stepped off, that it wasn’t going to end well. He should have realized it two steps earlier, but hindsight was of little use to him now. He knew he had to keep looking up, to focus on the sky. He knew he had to hope it would be like entering…
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AROMA
What I want, no, need actually,is to remember the smells of youth.The images I can recall, but they areaged pictures, run repeatedly throughthe Photoshop of memory, andcannot be trusted only desired. The old, half ready to fall oak,in the Salt Lake City park hada faint pungency that lingeredeven as I departed my body asthe acid…
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GROUNDED
it was so much easier when I could stillimagine myself a bird, untetheredand free to take flight on a whim. In dreams I often flew, no Icarusbut a raptor, peering down, seeingwith a clarity the earth denied me. Now my roots have taken holdin the enmeshing soil plunged deepand spread tendrils anchoring me, and even…
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DOG DAYS
Growing up my family always had dogs,only one at a time, of course, since wewere a modern suburban family,which may be why we had a dog. It clearly wasn’t because they loved dogs,they tolerated them on good days,ignored them the rest of the timeand the good days were few if any. I never asked for…
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FATHERING
Recalling it now, the sight had to be absurd,and I suspect it was at the time,but as its beneficiary then. I darednot say anything, I’d mastered that already. My father in khakis and a poor excusefor a flannel shirt, Goodwill no doubt,but you had to have one just for occasionslike this, not that they would…
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an old writer and his words 