Friday, June 23, 2017

Dancing capoeria

Braids and pigtails fly through the air
and legs and arms, they're dancing,
diving, kicking and smiling.
this is capoeira.

Thursday, June 22, 2017

The beauty of a collarbone

her beautifully smooth skin,
fresh, her white teeth, her smile,
the faintest hint of fine peach fuzz
where the light graces her shoulders
and dances across her fine collarbones.
a summer frock, floral, blues and rose,
a delicate ring on her left hand,
the radiance of love.
Youth as it should be, full of promises,
of adventures not yet experienced,
roads not yet taken,
yet always knowing that there
is someone watching over her,
with some of the same freckles,
some of the same smile,
dimples made of the wrinkles
from many years of smiling
at her.

Wednesday, June 21, 2017


She was alone, almost hidden behind the tall grasses,
her red backpack bobbing with every stride.
It was that time of day when the world is suspended
between night and day, this longest day of the year.
Two young men heavily tattoo'ed told me that
they had just seen a bear cub moments ago.
But we only see sky and grass, clouds and
a distant house, the forest and hillsides 
in the distance and a woman, alone, wearing
her small red backpack, heading home.

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Alone in the field

a tree alone in the field,
no wait, there are sunflowers close by
and a cloud drifting by,
the sun is standing behind and a
forest is whispering, birds are twittering
before settling into their nests.
we are never alone, the wind caresses
our cheek and the sounds of people,
cars and trucks, birds, dogs barking,
at least one constantly surrounding us.
we may find seek solace in the darkest cave,
but there will still be water dripping somewhere,
the flap of a bat's wings, or the rumble of
thunder will reverberate within.
never alone, we must find solace in 
while being surrounded in sound.

Monday, June 19, 2017

what if

what if
there are really no words worth speaking 
about this single leaf basking in the morning light.
I could imagine the whoosh of water in the stem
or the crackle of photosynthesis in each cell,
but no words
there's no human needed in these woods,
nothing is pruned, trees rise from brambles,
the grass is high.
heavily laden seedheads bow the stems
towards the ground.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

In Flight

The click of a camera lens and
This moment will never be forgotten, a 
Dragonfly in flight, double iridescent wings 
Lofting up and out of the garden.
I have watched children in flight out of 
The nest, perhaps a bit unstable at first
Then lofting to careers and loves,
To adulthood on tiny wings that have 
Grown stronger with every headwind.
The wings of the dragonfly look so fragile,
they are wings as strong as steel.
Our fragile wings can be as strong
As steel.

Friday, June 16, 2017

Photography school

I learned to look in the foreground,
to look for shadows and light.
I learned to see instead of just walking by
blind to beauty.
the teacher talks to me through the movement
of electrons and radio waves, through fibers
and ether, 
he talks to me from the other side of the world
where he takes photos of silhouettes at
an unknown beach, of unknown people speaking
languages I do not understand.
he is teaching me the language of seeing,
of touching, of appreciation of the
tufts of grass in the foreground,
the shadows that they cast.