In a clearing

Ice dreaming


In a clearing

the ice covered pond

reflects the cool sun’s glare


sleeping   dreaming   waking

The green light at the bottom of the pond is kept on


The writings in books

are like skates on the pond

Cutting figures in the ice

while staying

on the surface of dreams


 Mermaids come as night falls

 cutting holes

from the bottom of the ice

 singing their siren songs

 to awaken the sleeping minutes

of hearts and minds

keeping time


While hurrying clouds congregate

rebellious against the moon

and I sit here alone

in dark wonder

watching the glow

from the warming fire


The bright moon

My breath in the air

All I hear is stillness


A living journal,  my poems are weaving and circling around themselves…puzzles unwinding in a clearing…a dialogue now in waves more than starts and fits, editing me….



photo credit: <a href=””>gomattolson</a&gt; via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>cc</a&gt;



Night mirrors

In my winter dreams

I look for seeds that have curled up in dry dark corners

caught there when the floods washed through.

I pull away the broken limbs and detritus that collect

and watch the seeds that float to the surface


Like mirrors end to end

they shift and turn

reflecting the barbed light of other suns.

Birthing memories.

The only heat sometimes is in memory

passing through the heat of the wound.


I wake from these dreams disconnected

I have instinctively stretched out in time.


Deep in the night

no birds singing yet

waiting for light.


intro page

Tick – Tock


Fractals fascinate me. This one is reminiscent of an old world map… but on some distant planet where the sea forms geometric plates that continually shift and reconfigure according to this planets three moons and the land spews forth in continual eruptive engagement.

It’s in the eye of the beholder. The middle form might be a river enraged and snaking through carefully groomed farm land. But not today…

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