bean town: navigating at night

the summer of 2002 burned
me at the edges
til I was crisp

and images haunt me
in smoldering wisps

A giant ear of corn
in the bean town
sky line
emblazoned on my mind

my mouth begins to water
for the last picnic our crew threw
baked beans
cole slaw
hamburgers grilled
to the perfect
Fourth of July char

swimming off the boat
on a sand bar

~

SJS aboard Aleida, photo by Betsy Burleson.

Haiku:

........a blue spinnaker...........
unfurls against landscaped
............imagination.................

urban hike

a hedge with white flowers
pierces my nostrils with bitter sweetness
smells of some suburban park-league those julys
when i was a kid no one would talk to
not even in summer

skinny milkweed entwined
in the chain link fence
reminds me of the silent walk home
from elementary school
wishing other kids saw it too

this queen anne's lace (replaced
with wild chicory) is not a tapestry
growing up around a street sign
that cracks the city pavement
letting in the dirt

fluffy butter and eggs
persist. beautiful weeds
insist on living in the crags
of granite curbstone and
prove they are not only beautiful but brave

~

photo by SJS, "Somewhere in Somerville"

Writing Down Wind

I’m flattered to think I’ve been invited to write
about ‘the writing life’
I think about this as I sit…
Alone…on the throne…and alternately…I think… and I ….
But this is no ordinary hotel lavatory;
I’ve got the best seat in the house.

The third and last stall has a window for a wall
And it’s always wide open, overlooking the ocean
a wonderful place to come face to face with it All
or just to begin and simply to write down the wind.

~


"Samantha Can" Photo by Pink Parlor Poet Pat Hale

~~~~Reflexive Rainbow Gift~~~~


~~~~~~~If I could give you~~~~~~~
~~~~~the giant spray rainbow~~~~
~~~on the leeward side of the jib~~
~~~~~which can only be viewed~~~
~~from the wave-tumbled bowsprit~
~~~maybe then you would know~~~
~~~~how ecstatic I am that you~~~~
~~~~~~~~have given me it.~~~~~~~

The Snowy Egret

~
Grief comes in waves
like the sea lapping the shore
sometimes raging with a storm
sometimes quiet and gentle
and our tears are that sea
of like salinity
the tears we shed in
this Sangha will be absorbed
by our broken river hearts
with many branches
like willow trees
in the wild winds
that sway and bend
but dont affect the torso-trunk
tree belly
~




photo credit to the Floridian member of the Snowy Egret Sangha who said "My mother is losing her mind and I am losing my mother." Namaste! Please write if you see this or know how to contact her!

The Snowy Egret

~
As we exit the clown car
a brightly colored volks wagon beetle
is trying to escape being eaten
by the snowy egret with the red thread
and we emerge carrying our own packages
because even though
we might trade our grief in
for something else
ownership of our grief
is what makes us ourselves
in this moment
we take our own,
home.