Monday, July 23, 2012

From the "Union Pier" poems:

First Day

The season of snow has given way to this month of May
when wildflowers tumble out of the darkness, strutting
their warm purples and deep yellows out on the prairie. 
After this morning’s rain, the sun slices in-between
impossibly-high red oak branches, its lukewarm rays diving
all the way down into the forest floor where
the smell of the wet woods rises
to meet my deep breathing.

Excited --
like children on Christmas morning -- we
descend the rickety, narrow steps to wander
on the wide beach, our bare feet sinking into
the unwalked sand, freshly dried and loose
between our toes.  This is all ours!  All ours
to contemplate and listen to and smell,
a peaceful pleasure for two, a miracle. 
David skips stones into the lake’s shining sheets
but I can’t.  I
don’t know how
no matter how hard I try to hold the flat
pebbles just so, fling them straight out
with a twist
of the wrist, wishing for at least one bounce
or two.  Before long,  the fog -- that portent of cooling
temperatures -- begins to travel slowly overhead.   With the mist
on our shoulders, our backs, we quicken our pace,
craving some warmth in the face of so much dampness.  

And climbing the shaky stairs up to our newly rented cottage I
wonder how much of an urban dweller I am,
needing cellular phones and emails
to feel a part of this world,
a glimpse at a red cardinal perched on the slanted roof,
its black throat gleaming as he takes flight
should be enough,
in the black and quiet night the sound of waves crashing on the shore
should suffice.


  1. Like your poems...sand, pebbles and cardinals...doesn't get much better than that!!