Saving the Kirtland

This is how it begins –
Flip lip lip-lip-tiptip-CHIDIP.
Intensify with vocal chords
that sweeten the ears
of that choosy ground nester
and a woman with binoculars
around her neck.

He perches on top of the world –
a little distant
but close enough to hear and see
and amaze the jack pines
that surround him.

Yes he can fly when I
merely walk.
His wings dart upon air
while I stumble along
paths and roadways,
some taken, some neglected.

We have different diets,
alternate breath,
chords that mesh with noise
from myself, ringing
from his beak.
Perhaps we vary by a molecule
or two.
Our DNA hedges on
iceberg or leaf.
We are life itself –
no coincidence from
where we came.

Swing of life
you exceed the circulation of branches.
When we save the Kirtland
we save ourselves.




My blue is mute.
It sends anonymous postcards
through shivering knees,
hoarse lips.
Fancies whimsical parade
this showcase.
Only depth perception
acknowledges its existence.


It is 60 percent of everything.
Living that is.
Each molecule needs it, breathes it,
without it.

What comes easily is taken
for granted.
The sun rising,
the moon setting,
the earth spinning.

My clothes are clean.
This machine turns
and scrubs and toils
so I don’t have to.
Not so for the native lady
who walks from town to river
and spends her day not reading.

What comes easily is taken for granted.

My hands are washed
by a spigot that is never
This energy grinds on
and the cooking and cleaning
and eating and bathing
take up no time at all.
What comes easily
is taken for granted.

What we take for granted
Can be lost.
It is finite and precious
and life itself.
Walk against the tide
my son and it pushes you
back to where you started from.


This nation of immigrants

In the hallowed halls of Washington
the quintessential American
traitor once was called.
That little war with Spain based
on lies about the Maine –
no Twain did not approve.

Aliens and sedition – we all from
this unceasing law
each immigrant from old
clobbered were yes –
by freedom’s bell.

the Irish from a famine soaked land fled –
resume the chant
“go home go home
you are not wanted here.”

The Jew from central Europe
did return from whence he came
to hangman’s noose –
he was not saved.
“Too many” we cried
We cannot let this boat
set at liberty’s pier.

Poor or bedraggled
Syrian or beaten
so not us
and yet so true.
Each new citizen
was never approved
whether language or hue
each difference we chew at –

Cruelty you bend the spine,
avarice you break the heart,
beget conflict everlasting
while humanity departs.


Make him go away

Make him go away!
This deep blue mourning
drags down the lids
of these frozen eyes.

Sweep it under – gone
like the geese of fall
no more to fly –
arrow formation.

Take my roses
for your own – steal them
leave the thorns be –
hind to sweat my blood.

Red river rushing
the stones and sand swept
away build else-
where – land to slumber.