The stuff that comes out a bird's mouth.

Poem 20150526

why not jump in
with both feet
and eyes closed
you’ll never find out
how deep the mystery
unless you are willing
to sacrifice
your safety

Poem 20150525

you open your eyes
and i slide into being

turn away it’s as if
i’ve never been born

only a smudge, merely
a blurred image

parsed through a mirror
or a reflection in a pond

Poem 20150524

the sky is blue
but it’s not the same blue
and the clouds are high
but not as high
or as white
and the air is cold
but not as thin or dry
and sits heavy in the lungs

the day is filled
with going and doing
and not enough being

one walk
one attempt to sustain
has us finding a lizard
carelessly killed
and grieved only by
the mourning of doves
the buzzing of insects
and the two of us
placing him in the shade
so that he won’t be hit again

i wonder how different here
can be from there
where signs warn
not to step on cryptobiotic soil
and here the lizard
with his beautiful blue stomach
couldn’t move fast enough
in a world moving much too fast

Poem 20150523

down through a blanket of clouds
ears popping
and the pressure between the eyes
reminding me
that i am home

Poem 20150522

Friday Haiku

to the hiker who
left trash floating in the stream–
dude, seriously?

Poem 20150521

the climb is vertical at points
an unforgiving drop to the left

the swithbacks make this a hike
rather than a climb
but my shoes are not made for this
slipping on dirt-caked stones
sliding over loose stones

and my clothes are not made for this
jeans heavy and hot and tight
and not good for the long strides
that i have to make

and i am not made for this
old and out of shape
dripping with sweat
panting in this elevation
legs shaking with the effort
all these flights of stairs
made of oxidizing sandstone

the lizards scuttle out of my way
it isn’t hard to imagine a grasshopper
flying at my face
catching me off balance
and sending me over the edge

this doesnt happen

the summit is flat and covered in scrub
junipers and pine dead and thriving
and agave dying and sending
it blossoms to the sun
is this it? i think
until i break through the heavier growth
and reach the rim

my last breath
as my old self
the self that started
up the mountain trail
his last breath powers a laugh
and i have to learn
how to breathe
with my new lungs
this new air

Poem 20150520

a jay grabs the grasshopper
out of the air
and flies into the twisted limbs
of thr juniper

later i see a family across
a dry gulch
and wonder which are the parents
and which the overgown
still trying to get food
out of its parents

i imagine that basin filled
with water during the monsoons
the tree covered in swirling waters
battered by stones

where will birds be?
are they social like crows?
will they huddle together
even though the fledgling
will have long since
struck out
on its own?


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