
when taking
family photographs,
here’s one thing
that i’ve found:
there’s alway some jerk who laughs
and horses around.
–photo by me

when taking
family photographs,
here’s one thing
that i’ve found:
there’s alway some jerk who laughs
and horses around.
–photo by me
mother wolf carefully crept
up to the young deer as he slept;
tonight, she’d have meat
for her poor pups to eat–
somewhere, another mom wept.

in the still of the morning, i dismounted from my bike,

and i headed out on foot, for an early morning hike.

at last! my secret spot, i hadn’t been to for a year,

and i cried out on the wind, “i’m still here! i’m still here!”
–photos by me

the sun is a point in the cosmos,
the earth, but a mere speck of dust,
and i’m a small ant on that anthill
just doing the small things that i must.
***
and so the whole thing makes me wonder,
here, in my minuscule home:
if i should jot down some small verses,
then what is the size of that poem?
***
Is it as big as the cosmos,
or infinitesimally small?
perhaps when it comes to poetry,
the truth is that one size fits all.
–photo not by me

ocean waves crash
upon sandy beaches–
an ancient pulse
that we all know.
our hearts slow
as our bodies try
to beat as one
with mother earth.
–photo by son, aaron

as i was walking home last night, a thunderstorm blew in,
but i would not be hurried though the rain would soon begin.
lightning arced across the sky in splendid disarray,
and for a moment night became as naked as the day,
and though the wind began to drive the rain against my face,
i challenged heaven’s fury, and i kept my steady pace.
the sky unleashed a deluge as the wind began to roar,
and soon the blinding sheets of rain had drenched me to the core.
eventually, the rain let up, the wind began to die,
and soon a warm and gentle breeze began to clear the sky;
the stars came out like shining jewels adorning heaven’s dome–
the storm had passed, and now at last, i ran like hell for home.
–image by ai

shall we wish
upon distant stars
to make our
dreams come true
when there’s one in our back yard
that would surely do?
–photo by me

Well, I bought a bike today,

and around the lake I go;

and nothing’s gonna stop me–

except more April snow!
–photos by me

a hidden stream is wrested
from the verdant vegetation
and tumbles noisily down
a set of cool stone steps,
giving voice to the secrets
of its endless, cyclic travels.
secrets of strange lands
and thunderstorms and seas.
secrets–now borne on
the whispering wind.
–photo by aaron

to people, the spring
is a rebirth of life,
but to bass in the lake,
it’s a rebirth of light.
for many long months,
they lie caught in the grip
of the cold and the dark,
and with no fellowship.
what a glorious day,
when the sunlight pours in,
and at last, all the bass
are absolved of their sin.
–photo by me