Monday, April 19, 2010


The further we roam
the longer the journey home.

For some, a few blocks is a
mighty trek.
For others, half way around the world
is just a start.

The edge of the Earth is a fearful
place when we don't know
that it's round--something
I take on faith and logic,
not having taken that journey myself.

You in the crow's nest of the three-masted schooner--
I helped you see islands I never dreamed of.
Write to me when you go ashore.
Send me a coconut shell or something.
I will note your great achievement,
watching daily for signs of your return.


To someone whose expression of life
runs the gamut from A to B,
D behavior by another may seem

"Moderation," my father often counseled me,

To someone whose span is much, much wider
"L, M, N, O, P" rolls off the tongue easily,
and often, and seems quite normal.

Thursday, April 8, 2010


Tangled ball of twine--
Where are the ends?
One stretches back generations,
another even further into the unknown.

Only an unused hank of yarn
has all of its strands lying
neatly in place, one beside
the other.

How invested do we choose to be
in looking good versus
living well?

Your dashed hopes, hidden aspirations
the knots of your existence
enmeshed with my matted mess
make a fabric holy and unholy.

Shall we work to untangle it
or weave what is into unique cloth?
Ever embracing opposites, both/and
I say, "Yes!"