The Umbrella

Rainy Saturday.
The trees full of rain let it
go into the wind.

Her sudden laughter
as her umbrella knocks it
loose from the branches.

I’m blessed to hear that.
Aphrodite, thanks for this
subtle reminder.


It’s hot. The crows drift
from tree to shining tree in
unbroken silence.

My disused CV
would not explain what brought me
here to this window.

Berkeley, Princeton, Bos-
ton, Providence. I enjoyed
them all. Now I write,

imitate the crows,
their lofty vulgarity,
their stark silences.

Love is for Others

In my dream of her
we were all tangled in sheets,
shuddering as one.

I went back to sleep,
having looked out the window
above my bed where

trees thrashed in the rain.
In dreams or reality,
love is for others.

Either way the god
dispenses the blessings of
mortal otherness.

Capital Words

It’s a big country.
Away at the Capitol,
news-breaks break often,

live-streamed — which is good;
people need to be informed.
All the important

words — news, inform, scan-
dal — are capital words. Take
scandal (Gk: stumblng

block.) A sparrow song,
woven in silence, live-streamed
from the hedge, makes me

stumble: Scandal of
being! Sweet perfection inform-
ing me in itself.

Sun on the Bark

In Li Po’s poem
we sigh remembering and
we sigh looking ahead.

Taking deeper breaths
I make it up the mountain.
I smell Jeffrey Pines

among the Lodge Poles.
Sun on the vanilla bark.

between others, my
self included, even now
as I read Li Po.

Rage and Laughter

A sunny Sunday
for a walk, the path deep in
muddy rose petals.

Miles away city
squares fill with rage and laughter
and beetled police.

Years ago I’d be
there fence-sitting but seeing
what I could not know.

There are no chosen
people. Passion trumps power.
God doesn’t take sides.

Old World Habits Die Hard

By the big window
an older couple shares to-
day’s New York Times. Light

splashes on pages
neatly folded. There are smiles,
frowns, nods, sighs. What a

world! They seem happy.
A kind of peace prevails like
an ancient Greek god.