You must have seen it, at a crepuscule shore;
It strikes as lightning does, trembling the sky,
with dying rose and aster glowing, calling "more"
to the last flash of egret possibility.
You must have heard it: mad crickets in the dusk,
the flap of lone water on smooth stone and bark,
the sound of a loon in the thick summer musk,
the breath of the mango tree whispering in the dark.
Self-centered, we cannot see God in ourselves,
and in others we overlook and miss the divine;
in nature, not ours, we sense eternal lives
for a moment alive in our chattering minds.
- ► 2017 (52)
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- My Dead
- Late Summer Poem
- The Girl @theParisReview Says Uncool
- An excerpt from "Mirror, or a Flash in the Pan"
- New Life 5 (Mistranslation of Joseph Brodsky)
- Autobio, for Robin Williams
- The Course of Grief
- 100 Thousand Poets for Change day is September 27!...
- Izdubar (ekphrastic on Carl Jung's Red Book image)...
- Exorcism (Found Poem)
- AWP 2015 Panel: Daughters of Baba Yaga
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