All right, the wind. Breath

of gods, spirits of—

the dead. essences invisible, 


lives of rocks and soils. 

What woods and barks and

mosses and grasses give


as they respire,

and asphalt and the milk

trucks and logging trucks


passing down the road 

at sunrise, and the sun,

above all.


After the night wind,

the morning breathing

of the sun.



~Latin considerare to observe, think about, from com- + sider-, sidus heavenly body


Consider the birds,

how they find their way

in the sutumn night.


Consider the lilies:

A star surrendered

its light.


Consider the heavens.

We are not

the stuff of dreams.


A few years ago, I was mentor for a high school student working on poetry. We did assignments together. Here is my poem about the vowels.


A shaft of orange light, unexpected

before the end of

a long gray day


Eel black, luminescent

through the thick green river


I am winter-pale peach,

being, thatched with white and black


O luminous apple-green:

Mutsu, Greening, unripe Mac


YoU are fresh and blue,

tinged with the scent

of summer clover


And Y is it sometimes silver,

sometimes jade,

flickering just on the edge

of visible light?



Dec. 12, 2006



Early.  The gray
meows for his morning.
In the green
across the way,
still I hear the spring,
their shrill.
The soft, pink
have opened their fragrant
and the pale red bleeding
hang among the white.


Fearfully, reluctantly, uncertainly.
Kindly, patiently, carefully, gently.
Slowly, gradually.
Eventually, tentatively, shyly.
More confidently, even eagerly,
laughingly, uproariously,
madly, wildly.