Published inWordsmith LibraryThe Dead TreeA poem about life in a new subdivisionOct 31, 20201Oct 31, 20201
Closing DayStraight-hemmed shirt hangs a circle around the last known outward trajectory of his belly. Steel grey mustache trims his upper lip to a…Nov 25, 2019Nov 25, 2019
Last Ones FreePolice car lights are echoes of twilight. We pass it with the rest of traffic on our race through California’s badlands.Nov 21, 2019Nov 21, 2019
Man in a Parking StructureHe chirps his black SUV, strolls beside a woman scraping through her purse.Nov 13, 2019Nov 13, 2019
Fire’s ScarThe storm has passed over and cloud-pent air risen up to steel-eyed stars.Jan 1, 2019Jan 1, 2019
Travel Log: Roadside StoreCharles cast critical gazes at dashboard, muttered dark prophecies related to transmissionDec 30, 2018Dec 30, 2018
Audiobiography: 1991Last day of church camp and a small crush, and I was at the ping-pong tables. Plastic ball snapped broken rhythms under dusty arms of a…Dec 18, 2018Dec 18, 2018
Published inPoets UnlimitedTraitsI wonder briefly, and not the first time: Does my dog possess traits, or does she merely mimic mine? We walk along bluffs where limpid…Dec 9, 2018Dec 9, 2018
Travel Log: Lost FieldsThe western edge of Lost Fields melted together memory and present in a shimmer of heat.Dec 9, 2018Dec 9, 2018
Audiobiography: 2012i. The first time I heard the drummer’s light touch I wondered if he was jazz trained.Dec 7, 2018Dec 7, 2018
Rare OctobersThere are rare Octobers in Northern California that begin with rain.Dec 5, 20181Dec 5, 20181
Travel Log: Hard PanThis was our dehydrated run down valley’s eastern hard pan between rice fields and foot hills, Charles driving, Raymond grinning.Dec 1, 2018Dec 1, 2018
Published inScene & Heard (SNH)Family SelfieAll day wind swept sand against driftwood, and now sand drapes over them like sheets.Nov 29, 20181Nov 29, 20181
Audiobiography: 1966 or 7, 2018in which the poet listens to his music collection and writes poems about itNov 29, 2018Nov 29, 2018
The Camp Fire, November 8, 2018: Exodusi. Faintly I was nauseated sitting in my chair in a dark room sipping coffee watching the dawn-red edge of torn black mass stretch across…Nov 20, 2018Nov 20, 2018
