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Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Waiting on the Rain

I’ve been always waiting on the rain.
Clouds thicken
The air grows heavy
Sparking a neural response in my body.

My chest aches
And pain radiates like solar flares
In concussive ripples.
Rain is the detonator
And I await the inevitable sear.

Nobody really knows.
They think me drunk
When I stagger
Like one under a kinder influence.
They think me addled
When my conversation halts on words
Like clothes caught on briars.
They think me profane
When I damn this curse.
They think me poor
When I shrivel within what shell I’ve left.

I await the rain
Whose suffering drenches me
Like an outcast.

But I have always believed it better
To meet heartache head on
As one accustomed to pain
And equal to its misery.

Let go my hand for now.
I am going to greet the rain.

Friday, March 10, 2017

Empty Fire

You offered no kindling
Yet I burned for you.
No oxygen
But my flame warmed you.

Nothing combustible
But my glowing illumined you.

Heat and light
You received of me
Though no sustenance was given.

My flamed licked your sighs
Caressed your cries
But without fuel I was only

Empty Fire,

Friday, March 3, 2017

Seasons on a Birch Wall

Twilight paints the western sky
With Venus overhead
Bleeds to night the inky dark
Then eastern skies rim red.

On rolling hills, I see a wall
Of birches, white and slender
Reaching high, through chilling air
Delicate and tender.

White birch stands fill these hills
Like brides, adorned for grooms.
They stretch limbs here, rise tall there
In cathedral mountain rooms.

Swaying, singing, waving arms
They dance through storm and breeze.
Hear them sing a soothing song
These graceful, snow-clad trees.

Hear the wren and robin call
From perches near the sun.
Below the bear, and elk patrol
The deer and otter run.

High above, birch branches weave
Their dappled sunlight spreads.
By night a leafy canopy
Will mark their woody beds.

Winter drapes in sheets of white
Like linen on a line.
Springtime wakes in mint green hues
Sweet as garden wine.

Summer sighs in leafy shade
Autumn in burnished golds.
Seasons on a birch wall turns
And wraps me in its folds.

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

I Remember Jackson

I remember Jackson.

The bitter
Long goodbye
That look
In your eye
When you
Promised what was
Beyond your power
To give.

How could you love me
Yet betray me
As easily
As a butcher
Dispatches a calf?

I hardly expected a
Judas kiss
To taste of salt and lime.

I remember Jackson.

The heat on my shoulders
Grit under my boots
Sweat streaming my eyes
The dull ache
Beneath my sternum
The way you turned your face from me
When I drove the question into you
The way a man drives a fence post
Into clay
Into your eyes, asking
“Did you?”

It took time to hate you.

But it began
There.
The ignition sparked the fury
There.

Oh, yes…
I remember Jackson.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

I Wish I'd Said that #9...

Things work out for the best for those who make the best of the way things work out.

~~ Anonymous   

Monday, February 27, 2017

Against the Zephyr

I remember your glistening hair
Reflecting bright sun shafts
Long and loosed
Describing the whims of the wind.

As a younger man
I stood alone in golden wheat lands
Hands spread against the zephyr.
I had not remembered that
Until now
With your soft strands wafting free.
Free like Tibetan prayer flags
Seeking divine eyes to see
To know and understand.

How I wish I understood
Knew you.
I would have furled your hair
Tamed your wild heart
And planted hope
In your tender soil.

But I was afraid.
Afraid you would fly
Like the wind that chased you.

I cannot pass a wheat field
Or standing corn
Swaying in summer winds
And not see you again
Your long hair loosed
And flying free.

Sunday, February 26, 2017

I Wish I'd Said That #8.....

How like a serpent's tooth is a thankless child.

~~ Shakespeare, in King Lear

Friday, February 24, 2017

Over You*

There’s a lesson here to learn
For the man who can discern
And don’t intend to burn:

Oh, I gotta tell you boys
Don’t be playin’ with her toys
Or listenin’ to her noise.

No matter what they say
They’ll always make you pay
And  you’re a dead man anyway.

I’m fixin’ to tell you true
That’s what women do
Once they set their eye on you.

So…..

If you wanna save your life
Don’t take a singer for your wife
Or they’ll be singin’ lamentations
Over you.

If you wanna save your life
Don’t take a barmaid for your wife
Or they’ll be liftin’ a whiskey
Over you.

If you wanna save your life
Don’t take a salesgirl for your wife
Or they’ll be figuring up a talley
Over you.

If you wanna save your life
Don’t take a cowgirl for your wife
Or they’ll be kickin’ a bronc up
Over you.

Oh, listen to me men
And I’ll tell you once again
If you wanna save your life
Don’t take no sweet thing for you wife
Or they’ll be planting a gravestone
Over you!


*You know I'm just kidding. Maybe. (I have been married a couple times, and I'm just doing my bit to light the path).

Thursday, February 23, 2017

The Plow*

It was just a fallow field
Home to mice and crow.
What it could become
Nobody seemed to know.

The field froze every winter
It lay scorched by summer suns
Untouched for many seasons
It beckoned a tiller come.

Then clods were broken up
The soil cut wide and deep
And the field began to wake
From a hundred years of sleep.

Seeds were sewn in rows
And rains birthed wondrous life
Once the field was planted
After yielding to the knife.

So like fields are we.
Our soil must be turned.
The pain of plowing hurts
But the seed of life is earned.

It’s amazing how glory comes
No one knows why or how
But increase comes in bushels
When miracles follow the plow.


*In tribute to A.W. Tozer; a man who yielded his life to the plow.

Just Another Dog

I heard the wailing of a weary soul.
It had a pleading that I couldn’t know.
But it was just another dog in the wind
And I reckon I’ll never see him again.

She was a little girl by the side of the road.
I could tell by looking she carried a heavy load.
But she was just another dog in the wind
And I reckon I’ll never see her again.

I saw a boy that walked every street in town.
He never looked up and always looked down.
But he was just another dog in the wind
And I reckon I’ll never see him again.

She was a woman with a certain look in her eyes
And I was taken by her smile and her lies.
But she was just another dog in the wind
And I reckon I’ll never see her again.

I saw my face in the mirror, haggard and lost.
That’s the price that I paid, it’s the cost.
But I’m just another dog in the wind
And I reckon you'll never see me again.