From 1995

Indirect Object

quail tap dancing on carport roof
cat crouched on yellow car
looking up

blame is transitive
its object direct
or strongly

regret is reflexive
like a cat crouched
like birds on a wire

cats can
be bedeviled by
the unreachable closeness of birds

regret is like this too
if the roof were gone
he could reach the bird
but where to stand
and where the bird

the past is impenetrable as corrugated tin
and wavy
the sound of birds can fascinate
or mock

blame the bird



Unamuno’s Dog*

*(Previously published at Eclectic Flash, Vol 1, in 2010)

like flies
just out of reach.

One poem,
like a nuthatch
in winter
at the suet feeder,
pecks for
word seeds.

Another poem
leads me
like Unamuno’s dog.

I follow
her swishing tail,
watch her
snap at flies,
teeth clacking
the air.

The nuthatch
another seed,
flies away.

Miraculous Disentropy

Watch a bird gathering
the smallest winterfallen twigs
one by one to fly them
to a crotch of limb and trunk
high in a stillbare tree.

Thus are the scatterlings
interwoven in the very tree
from whence they were blown,
the tendency toward disorder
overcome in the bird’s design.

Take an iceground pebble
from a morraine and carry it
up a mountain. Balance it
upon an improbable cairn.
Pick up a weathered bird’s nest.

Hold it in the palm of your wonder.