Agnostic
God in whatever form you choose
God in the milk thistle and the morning bobcat
God in my twelve trees and God
God
God in the yawning farmland
Good workers unblinking honest hands
The quarter harvest
The clock of daybreak and the last ray
The peacock in the canyon
its coyote counterweight
God in this gentle balance
God with the great green scales
God weighing
Weighing holiness with the morning lark.
Recall
I bought a piece of bone for my hair
A needle to tie it up
In this way I like to be
Close to the root of things
Mothering
A slight doe and her fawn live in this canyon
I’ve seen them several times
Caught them
With my eyes only
Bound by sinew, dusky in dappled redwood brush
I’ve seen them several times
Caught them
With my heart only
Twinkling, boundless, onward, hush
Ode to Mary
This trembling wreath of a summer morning
Glass dew necklace in sweet grass
The mutter of the yellow finch
Father
Can you see me with the quail and the poppies?
Can you see me from where you are?
I was foolish to think you were bound by the heavens
For on mornings like this
When the sun has chased the cotton away
And my cheeks are red before breakfast
I see your form in everything on earth
Above me
All day
The sound of wings, beating
But Grief Still Blooms Like Roadside Flares in My Chest
Today, the massacre came in
A marine layer cutting
She left my vocal cords thrashing blindly in their sinewed breaths
She razed my rusting resistance, doubled and halved it, shore it down to parts and carried it away
She dragged snow batting to the field and stuffed it in the echos
Swung her great hand towards the bulging knob of noise and turned it down
This dove-silence is not a token, though
She hummed for years and halted
Winking behind corners, taunting, elusive wise-cracking
Only now she thrums in perfect, silver harmony with each cresting fit
A glorious night call, aching
Moon-pulled and gravitational in her eternity
Monday
I can see the whitecaps from my porch
Rows of rushing, gasping
A fleet of them
On the road today there were three dead things
Someone’s cat
An oppossum and a tawny owl
They greeted me in quiet succession
Breathing, somewhere
Somewhere on another planet
I think I’ll carry the whitecaps with me
Nestled close to those dead things
Carry them all ‘till bedtime
And at ten pm I’ll lay them down
One by one
Life by life
To rest
To rest
To rest
