Spent Rose

I dream of climbing empty bookshelves

You hop the fence to open the church door

Is there a difference between union and communion?

We listen to the boats ringing delicately like wind-chimes

But it is too cold to kiss

In the minefield between love and knowledge

Blessing

Something so simple

that we can do for each other

placing hands on the head

the miracle of receiving touch

my mind fills with images

the wings of a dove

beating

sensations 

warmth in my heart

a cold waterfall down my shoulders and spine

a feeling of longing in my belly

if only this could last forever

but soon it’s enough

Old Shoes

I like shoes that look comfortable
People tell me, your shoes look so comfortable
The first pair of these was made in America
I wish I'd bought two, so next time I did
Though they were made elsewhere
And took time to wear in
They were made of cheaper materials
And wore out in two-three years
I left them near the beach
Maybe someone else will wear them
Or hang them from the shoe tree
They'll look comfortable against the sky

Dreamlike

A full moon
Your deep voice
echoing in my ears
more than the words
I know you have a good heart
I take you to the secret garden
We lie naked under the trees
I can't believe how soft your lips are
I have to touch them again
with mine
open my eyes
to be blinded by moonlight
shivering
Was it real?
Was that a firefly
or a shooting star?

Mundane

Life like this labyrinth
follows a predictable path
barely sticking up from the ground
a few dry rocks
weeds growing out of the gravel

You wanted a view?
You must rise above it
to make poetry
out of the ordinary

Maybe Mouse

Maybe it's not our voices
that scare the little mouse
peeping out of his hole
dashing back in

Maybe it's the pondskaters
the blue dragonfly's shadow
or the beating of a hummingbird wing

Maybe it's nothing to do with us

Maybe he's imagining things

Maybe this is just how
a mouse normally goes about
investigating a fascinating root

Philosophy

Philosophy applied to life:
How to reconcile
my cycling mind
with this aging body?

Time

Has it been three years?
Age has touched my friends'
beautiful faces
while I was gone
or looking the other way
softening the skin
crinkling the eyes
worrying the mouths
I know I've been touched
by the same ghost
and I feel sad

San Francisco Summer

The fog doesn't care about us
rolling in from the ocean
day after day
chilling us to the bone
dampening the air
darkening the sky

At best we can climb a mountain
to rise above it
breathing in the damp, coniferous woods
sweating buckets
in the surprising warm sunshine
looking down on the ocean of cloud
that shrouds our unenlightened friends

Ladies' Pond

An oasis of sorts
where we can sunbathe
without the restriction of bras
though not swim topless
splash
quietly
through water
cold enough to make you dizzy
if you put your head in
which most people don't
appreciating instead the waterlilies
and ducks

People in London

People in London
do some things like me
waving thanks to cars
that stop at the crossing
wearing scarves all year round
eating blackberries off bushes
swimming in ponds on the Heath

Sometimes it's nice
not to be too different

March for Whale Freedom

We gather from all over
loosely connected through facebook
we are not all activists
many of us have never marched before
nobody knows what to chant
we are a little shy
hiding behind our placards
Lucy hands the megaphone to Will
who cries 'One planet, one ocean'
as we pass Trafalgar Square
and I realize the whale is a sangraal
we are exercising our own freedom to care
when our protected freedoms
are being trampled by rogue fishers
our pirate ship impounded
that was cutting the nets
our faces photographed by tourists
but everyone likes whales

Dolphins and Whales

Dolphins and whales delight us
leaping in and out of the waves
tracing a smile over the horizon

How can we hunt them for food
trap them in our fishing nets

Their freedom reminds us of
                  the wild side of ourselves
Singing their long ballads
                  beyond the edge of our hearing