Poetry

I am from ocean air and silver fog. I am from marshes, blue herons, and white egrets. I am from Eucalyptus holding winds at bay, piebald cows blanketed in mist  lichen on ghostly fences. I am from otters, whitecaps, and the sea spray of a whale’s journey. I am from Sunday beach picnics —  golden […]

She looks up. Smiles. “Are you in our system?”  “Used to be, but I moved away.” “But you’re back now?” “Yes.” I smile at my son. “When I knew he was on the way, I brought us back.” She smiles at him, too. “I understand. I found you. You’re here.” I look from her to […]

I stopped to see the moon Sneaking through the day I watched a file of pelicans Patrol the breakers through the spray I spied a beached sea lion in the sand As two prospecting ravens pecked their prey While from the hills rang antiphonal psalmody Performed by rapt coyote choirs, far away. —Ellen Taylor

Fall has fallen The twilit light The day neatly folded into night White wintry eve The silent loon The frostbit fingernail called the moon The world is cold, my son, and bare And this, our darkest even of the year, May seem to cling forever near But feel this heart, its warmth, its care It […]

Deep Gratitude For everything that sings For leaves rustling in the wind And blossoms returning every spring Deep Gratitude For the four directions For the brightly shining sun And the moon’s reflections Deep Gratitude For winter, summer, day and night For the world going ‘round And wild birds in flight Deep Gratitude For joy unplanned […]

Long short day and I feel Every moment of it. So late the sun Rises now, and so soon It’s set. Apparently my daily list Hasn’t got The memo yet. — Dottie Simmons

Two little dogs bring eight feet of dirt everywhere they go paws on couches paws on floors dirty noses in the roses dirty tails leave dirty trails fur rolled in leaves leave stems from the trees fur rolled in grass leave green blades en mass two little dogs in the bath innocence with laughing eyes […]

I was a baby-faced eagle who woke in January. Flying near a screen, I had to stop before I could even start. I witnessed barricaded doors being torn apart. Subjects wielded weighty flagpoles. They smashed at the foundation; the shards were yelled out whole. Guards were knocked into crying arms, and eagles looked around for […]

How fungi eat wood leaves me flummoxed. I fear some may think I’m a lummox. White fungi gets chunky, as downed logs gets punky. But how do they eat with no stomachs? — Mary Thibodeaux Lentz

By the greatest of powerHidden from viewThe journey beganTo still life with flower Top of the towerInfinite stepsLast one attainedTo still life with flower Colors blended and pulsedSubtle and strongFrom a distanceA never heard song Out to the edgeEmpty and vastPeak of perfectionThen on past With lingering glowAbsolute peaceLasting foreverThe final release Nothing to distractRiver […]

Fire season, Harvest season, So much here to do. Preparing dinner from Our abundant harvest, With corn, summer squash, And tomatoes, too. I’m deep in the middle When I hear a sound I know. Aircraft, helicopter, Flying close and flying low. Not just any aircraft The heavy roar is quite unique. It’s CalFire up above, […]

(headline, Boston Globe) The moon burns bright enough to see but I’m not allowed glasses it’s all blurry to me The night is so quiet there’s hardly any noise no more cries from the little boys We looked at each other disbelieving the shake moved in a panic as  the walls started to break We […]