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This poem is from the section “Afternoon,” in my book “Between the Hours.” See here for further information on it, and look at this article for an explanation why I’m putting up a series of poems from my book. Thank … Continue reading
Why these tragic songs of love that end with sorrows everyone knows? Love answers all, even the questions one hasn’t yet learned to ask. _______________ -kt, 1/2020
The Black-eyed Susans wept into the frosty glen That winter met unvisited, untouched, untrod. The sunlight caught in a cup of lily Was drunk only by empty sky, Which smiling held forth but its cold grace. O, touch the soft … Continue reading
She pours out the last grains of rice from a clay urn. Gently she lays the cup inside and rests the lid back in place — its faint, empty drumming. __________________ -KT, 1/27/2020; based on the film, Ip Man
One overcast day she felt sad and drove to the coast. There, six dolphins came in to play among the waves — on a single wave, six dolphins body-surfing! Leaving, she felt whole again. She knew the dolphins had come … Continue reading
I walked down to the orchard today to see what had become of the few persimmons which we had left on the tree prior to the engaging activities of the holidays. The tree was barren but for the dry and … Continue reading
Such gleeful delight. What a way to greet Solstice! Thank you, Gus.
It is now dead midnight. Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. What do I fear? Myself? -Richard III, Act V, scene v
This is what Venus and the Moon cooked up last Sunday (July 15) for all to see in the late evening sky. This was taken in Northern California, in the Sierra Foothills. These two have been performing a marvelous dance … Continue reading
Every night the moon frolics in the stream — yet show me what it has touched or even a shadow. -A rendition of a poem by Takuan, tr. originally by Lucien Stryk in “The Crane’s Bill”
Walking a path on a hot afternoon, shedding a heavy mantle of work’s entangling thoughts, my attention’s drawn to a shadow on the path — a dark purple swallow rests with his belly buried in the sun-baked sand at path’s … Continue reading
The cover of Gathered Rain is a twig of oleander after the seeds have sprung from their pod. The twig is dropping to the ground in a rainstorm and has just bounced upward after having struck a small puddle. Find … Continue reading
There are some finely crafted poems in this issue of hedgerow journal. One of my favorites by Joy McCall:
There’s a beautiful red fox around here lately, which I’ve not yet had the pleasure of seeing, but which my wife recently saw. He, or she, was dashing across the far end of the front lawn, happy and energized. Apparently, … Continue reading
Those sweet surprises from the garden.