Kirk Gothier

Dangles above the coastline Where countless stars and waves Welcome me home. One of these stars Is extremely rare Having immigrated From a Dwarf Galaxy Far, far away… All of the waves come From foreign lands Much closer to home.

Dancing off the hillsides Inviting me outside Where clouds play, Above the canopy I normally embrace To avoid the rain. A Great Blue Heron Lumbers along Towards the sun, Oblivious to limits We take for granted On our grounds. I lace up shoes Stretching a bit And run uphill, Where my heart soars Recalling the […]

Great wings spread Feathering west winds, While grey clouds loom Beyond all horizons. These are dark days Yet still, you fly Battling the elements While the rest of us Just watch.

We walk together Along the Lost Coast One eye on Towering waves Whisked ashore Beneath dark clouds Finally dousing our Endless Fire Season On Christmas Day. Avoiding quicksand We squeeze between Ancient Redwood siding Holding what is left of An abandoned Dairy barn Littered with work tidings Scattered aimlessly Waiting to float Far away …

An ancient redwood barn</p> Leans in all directions</p> As we begin to talk</p> Of the inexplicable:</p> Where we are,</p> How we got here,</p> When these geese</p> Found their way,</p> Why this trail is</p> So easy to follow?</p> Cattails explode in laughter,</p> As we finish, where we started…</p>

A warm cup of coffee Finds familiar grounds   As the fog rolls out,   Where conifers reach Towards another   Stellar day.   Still,   I recall us Standing there   Where love began,   Smiling like suns Just newborn   Into light.   Home,   We embrace Each corner   Stitched in cobwebs […]

It is a Battle Royale Between the artist’s brush And streamlined aesthetic Overtaking us. Floating by Monet’s Lilies, Pressed in Carter’s War Bride, Cults of the Machine Are painting everything We long to embrace.

Before the Big Bang We were all together Taunting form And space In the dance We shared. Then the Stars, Periodic Tables And endless words All got in the way. Who knew?

One dimension Speaks volumes, With broken lines Dashing North & South, And broken bodies Littering our past. Scenic Vistas Rarely help Weary souls Recover. All lines  Are pointless.

I found it Above the Cemetery, Beneath Zipporah’s Pond, Holding its own Against the biomass. Trevor named it Earning that right Hiking the Lost Coast, And all trails known To our strongest hikers. If he only knew What lies ahead In the lines of men Who find their way To ancient waters, Where we all […]

Huge waves Lift our horizons, Crab pots set Close to shore Wafting death, Baiting others In the dark Unaware of The harvest… Related Stories

The mud is in and Clouds are stalking, With no legs up Taunting winds Offshore. No white lines On blue skies, Nor shallow footprints Painting geometrics Onshore. Nobody is Home…