Riding Kate

she swapped ends
180 degrees to the right
before she felt the reins

mule deer in the brush!

one ear forward, one ear back,
like me

then on to the
turning point:

calmer

hoping against hope
that there really is

a soul keeper

Pausing by the cedar stump

tracks came to here:

stopped.

looking back,
it was a crooked path
and snow is melting them,
distortions along the way.

the burned out cedar stump,
hollow now in age,
ancient even then,

sheltered much
in the days
and nights
spent in its safe womb,

(a child's innocent retreat)

but, revisiting,
the old entrance is too small
to allow passage now.

what follows this failing trail?

ahead is westering sun.

if I wait too long
the trail will be as dim
as future's twilight:

present and past,
in diminished sight,
melt poorly
into the arrival of the night.

Greta

She was crazy wild,

running
even on hind feet
faster than me,
always testing the wind.

She was crazy wild,

laying
on the passenger seat
in the old truck
on the arm of this old man
sly kisses on my ear

She was crazy wild,

just wanted to be near
but ran...

running,

to the end of her chains
to the end of her innate

boundaries

circles

and back ,

back to check her center...
diameters,
as if at the length of invisible restraint,

She was crazy wild,

love incarnate
loyally blind

ignorant of
affirming any consequent,

brief love
in the scheme of things

she was,

friend.

Borogoves and Momeraiths

"all mimsy were the borogoves and the momeraiths outgrabe"


the beautiful Tennessee Waltz
was darling its way
o're the cherry groves

when along came Bob
running

and stole my life
into 'Nam and other places

and the flag was downside up
and all could hear
seagulls cry
over oily oysters

revolution

so that pearls ashore
when we get there
would be white

and saints could
march blackly in
(darkly speaking)

it's ok
it's alright

all right

so,

when borogoves get all mimsy
why would we care?
we wouldn't dare
the momeraiths
would outgrabe
taking us away

anyway,

any way,

the redbird's off her nest
and her eggs arot
won't give a damn alot

(we'll waltz away home)

Choice

man from the mountain
demounts

broken commandments

defiance,
rage against chains,

seeking not freedom
but liberty

(even the eagle's wings
are subject to the laws of flight)

soar after freedom!

(are the angel's wings
subject to the laws of flight?)

choosing falling,
why do we want wings
to soften the landing?

Journey

helmet laying near a stump:

two signs of harvest.

they say that Ulyses himself
may have passed here
a cavalry crush
in the civil conflict

the crush of my feet
and the disturbance of my breath,

the sound of my words

all passed

the helmet,
the stump,

and...

Yellowstone Love

slowly comes the wind
across steaming waters

swirling spirits soaring

sulphur rich silence
blending love and pleasure

time stops

and the intensity of the sun
fills the basin of our hearts
where we dance in the shadows of our souls

suspended waiting

love waiting like a weight

like the weight of the lake
on its bed

like the weight of the bubbling
of our own murky depths

the purple night of our souls
sealed
healed
by breath of your breath
and sigh of your sigh

Dad

I see your
silhouette on the ridge
like a shadow in reverse....

my heart sinks with the sun
old man-leaning back
as if to remain
in yesterday

while the present portends
the inevitable,

longing
for missed opportunities
overwhelms the spirit
and my soul cries out to meet you

before the coming of the night.

Old

"old" requires looking back,
it is expected by some, and,
as the future narrows
to a thin perspective,

loving opens the heart...

like the view from a valley floor,
change evolves from the top
of a ridge

and the cleft of your breasts
is comfort
in a valley of shadows