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CABERNET
I should pause for a momentand mourn the plump orbsvinaceous in the morning sun,torn free, placed in basketsand carried off to be crushed.But the cabernet beckons,its first sip telling the taleof the California summer,the oak having long forgottenthe tree from which it was cut,and I watch as the sunreluctantly retreats,a flaming farewell, the promiseof a…
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THE DARK SIDE
She is so often presentas the sun makes itsdaily retreat, weimagine she ismysterious asshe hides, ordoes she takerefuge in the shadows.?Only a fewhave truly seen herand they speak onlyof her luminescentalter ego.
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HABITS
Tonight’s moon will looksimilar to last nights, or sowe assume since the cloudsdenied us that view again. It will be fuller, more plumpless an empty cup, now onealmost full, spilling its lightinto the all too dark sky. If she is hidden again, wewill turn to our imagination,for the moon is a creatureof habit, having learned…
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ETHEREAL
She appeared without notice,not there, then there, shehalf angel, half siren, half mad. She appeared like Casseopaiea’sfaint shadow taking form,stepping out of the sudden fog. She was nymphlike, sylphan,demanding attention, cravingthe eyes of all who passed. No one spoke to her, whetherout of fear or disinterest and shegrew angry, larger still, until the full moon…
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A SEPTEMBER SKY
Lie back, I said to her,just stare up that waystare into the skywithout any clear focus.Do you see him now,the hunter with his bowoutstretched, the beltcinched about his waistlocked in his eternal searchfor the prey that would free himfrom his nightly quest.And there, I pointedcan you see the great beargamboling with her childor there a…
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TWILIGHT
In the twilight of the dove,that moment when the sun’sretreat has only just begunmy shadow stretchesever so slowly into oblivion. I hear it whisper to mea promise to return and Iwant nothing more thanto believe it, for the grantof another day is a smallwish granted, one I makewith the knowledge thatthe genie of age is…
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APPROACHING NIGHT
Arising into nightthe departing suntangos away with its cloud,memories soon forgotten. Other dancers take the stage,now a romance, nowa war dance, feathers raisedin prayer to unseen gods. Night will soon bringits curtain across this stage,the avian casts’ final bows takenthe theater will darken, awaitinganother performance,a new script tomorrow,but for this solitary momentof frozen grace, it…
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FIVE HAIKU
The dawn cedes slowlyto the impinging sunlightbirds greet the new day The great egret liftsher wings embracing the cloudthe winter sun smiles on the barren branchthe red-shouldered hawk awaitsher mate and the sun sandhill cranes wanderalong the shore of the lakelooking for nothing the moon is a cupwaiting for night to fill itvenus sits empty
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DUSK
There is nothing like, nowords to adequately describe,that moment when a cloud-hazed sun lingers wishfullyjust above the horizon, graspingthe sky with brilliant talonsof light, fearing becominglost in a darkness that will,on this night of the new moon,engulf us all in its inky shroud. We know, or pray, the sunwill return in hours, justas the sun…
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THE ANCIENTS
Night and the ancients retreatto a dark corner of their celestial prisonfrom the promised arrivalof the yellow dwarf from whichthey know we demand a presence. We ignore the ancients now,ignore those who cast theminto their prison, ignorethe acts for which they werebanished, care only to name them,and they know that our recognitionis their only grasp…
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an old writer and his words 