Monday, October 19, 2015

An Ice Cream Hemiola

The ice cream’s here,
the time is now.
But I’m unclear,
my furrowed brow
betrays my tongue:
I know not how
to choose among
so many flavors.
Then you, spot-
-ting my behavior,
hatch a plot
and are my savior.

Our favorite three
of thirty-one
we both agree
on, then the fun
part, when we see
how quickly pass
three cones between
one lad, one lass.
By that I mean
that three for two
makes quite a scene,
with me, and you.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Poetry Season

For a fast month, we harvest poems,
April-ripe and urgently bursting,
our baskets stretched with letters,
with words, with finely worked lines.
We gather our treasures together,
share them, mix them, lick our fingers
as we linger on the long notes,
rejoicing in the juice of songs.
Around us, the ground catches
the leaves, the snatches of sound, the seeds
that fall, almost unnoticed, from our pens,
and then — and then! — they sprout,
the sharp green words come shooting out,
and verse begins again.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

And As I Walk

I walk, and as I walk, the bridge appears,
a single step, a single inch, but just
enough to keep me going through my fears,
to keep me going as I learn to trust.
With surer step, the surer base I find,
a faster pace, the faster comes my track.
But timid going, timid heart and mind,
draws the long proceeding trail back.
Beneath my feet, beneath my sight there lies
a vast, unlighted, fastly falling dark.
I raise my eyes, my rising, lightning eyes
and follow the far rising, lightning spark
that calls me, draws me, onward, upward, lo!
to that far shore, where God calls me to go.

Tuesday, April 28, 2015


Feijoas magically appear
in buckets, bags and bins,
and when you think you’ve used them all,
some more come pouring in.
They go in trifles, cakes and crumbles,
we eat them raw unguarded,
two bags’ worth went to chutney — still,
we’ve more than when we started!

Monday, April 27, 2015

New Zealand Rain

The rain in
New Zealand

The ground becomes
rather than dry.

This can only mean

Spring has Fallen.

Sunday, April 26, 2015


Throughout the fall,
and then the winter,
I had nary a cold nor a sniffle.
Germs fled in despair,
powerless before my immune system.

When April came,
I let down my guard,
failing to account for that fact that
in New Zealand,
it would suddenly be fall again.

They were waiting for me.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

A Poem of Poems

(with apologies to pretty much everyone)

O, where are the snows of yesteryear,
     Alone and palely loitering?
Once upon a midnight drear,
     They changed their state with kings.

I caught this morning morning's minion,
     She walks in beauty like the night.
And everything happens that can't be done,
     To rage against the light.

I am the music maker,
     And captain of my soul.
I take the road less traveled by:
     The grave is not it’s goal.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
     And Hope is the thing with feathers.
Death I think is no parenthesis,
     But I go on forever.

I wandered lonely as a cloud,
     And went to Innisfree,
My head is bloody but unbowed,
     Death kindly stopped for me.

* * * (additional verse that didn’t quite seem to fit) * * *

Today we have naming of parts,
     But I know not which to prefer.
O, never say that I was false of heart,
     By the shining Big-Sea-Water.