Friday, December 17, 2010

Poetic Interlude: Winter on Mount Tamalpais

Mist covers the mountain today
houses nestled in the folds of the hills,
half hidden by trees,
a Chinese landscape scroll outside the window.
All day they're cutting a huge fir across the valley
first, branches, till the tree stands bare
then, piece by piece from the top.
I miss the moment
when it no longer stands at all
clouds hide the sight.


  1. Winter Poem

    Far beyond the city,
    beyond the Stillaguamish,
    along the Skagit, across the fields;
    beyond the broken husks,
    beyond tiny sprigs of wintergreen,
    spiring up above the flats,
    patiently waiting in endless silence,
    the heron stands.
    And beneath the long, great beak,
    behind the dark eyes watching for fish,
    throughout the long winter rains,
    standing deep in thick, cold mud,
    beneath those great folded wings,
    a single, living heart beats.

  2. The red quince blossoms
    remind me that once again
    spring arrives.
    Night's still cold though
    stars bloom on
    crooked branches
    across a winter's sky.

  3. Like snow, blossoms dot the ground
    with white, then pink.
    Gripped with cold, a little light
    illumines each tiny world.

    Sunlight early, then grey light
    returns, and rain.

    At branches' tip, the poem unfurls,
    then drops, leaving marks
    like blossoms on bare ground.

    Do you see them?
    Little lamps aglow,
    dotting the earth we left.