It’s not a long drive,

thirty-some minutes or so

between home and work

and thirty-some minutes

back home again, but

this solitary drive

between two worlds

allows me to say goodbye to one

and quietly enter the other.





Down-home Remedy

Visited by some

kind of bug and unable

to sleep, I wrap myself

in gratitude, and held in

its calm embrace,

I rock myself to sleep

humming a lullaby of tenderness.


Even Birds Have Their Limits

It might be hunger

or pure cussedness that drives

that squirrel to dangle

and try to reach their treat, but

those birds dive and say, “No way!”. 


What The Moment Holds

Sitting down to write,

I meet what is, what isn’t,

what might yet be.

Isn’t this what every moment holds 

whether we’re aware of it or not?


Ways Of Seeing, Ways Of Being

How different the world

looks, how different they move through

each day, those snails and weasels.


Sometimes Though

I might as well

be looking at myself

from the top of a skyscraper –

that’s how distant

my head can be

from my heart and gut.

Sometimes though,

when I get still enough,

a witnessing self appears

and holds all three