Koel’s song merges with
Musky scent of mango bloom;
My heart lunges up!

The sun awoke to see what comes her way.
She birthed the light to end the monstrous dark.
A dim-lit glow she saw across the bay,
A face that changed and ran the twilight bark.

He wore the sweat of night upon his neck.
The stars began to dim; the sky became
Aglow. He saw across the way a speck
That burned and shined like the eternal flame.

He slowed his fall to view her light, she froze
In sight of his darkness. They fell in love.
The sun had begged to stay, but still arose.
The moon still lost against the day to come.

But the sun still rose, and the moon still set--
No one forgot the day the sun and moon met.

I don't think he knows
how much
he fills my
heart;
how
his movements
have made themselves
at home inside..
he makes me want
to push back
the furniture
just so
I can watch
him dance

She wore flowers in her hair
even in autumn
she wore flowers
in her hair

as if
they belonged
next to her beautiful
mind
like the daisies
belonged
growing within
the grass

she was an angel
in a summer dress
whispering
To me
her darkest secrets

like precious gifts
She spilt them
from her sweet tongue
into my mouth

and i knew i would
never again
go hungry
as i ate every
single
one

Cannabis Cannabis
Are you my friend?
We've  been asking this question
Since who knows when

From the bedroom
To the bathroom
To the den,
Sitting out on the porch
Or out on the back deck
Out by the cactus
Out in the pasture with the brook running through it
Or in
The redwoods ecstatic in the moving fog
With the walls closing in
To the poetry within,
Contentment, lethargic exhaustion, anxiety, with the music moving,
self consciousness exquisite,
ego disintegrating
Remembering, forgetting,
Remembering
Back again
Oh, cannabis cannabis
Are you my friend

We've had the dance
I can't deny
From stems and seeds
To Humboldt flower dispensary
Many stops in between

You've played with my mind
Sometimes I wonder who I would have been

Cannabis, oh cannabis
Are you my friend? (Old friend).

The old blanket is so hard to discard

dramas have unfolded in its folds
upheavals of winter's orogeny
trills of two birds in ecstatic thrill
to the rest in the ripened knowledge

we have made a home
we have earned it.

In the still of night
under the old blanket
the tales are relived
without a touch
a word..

The old blanket is so hard to discard.