In the name of revolution

Barn frames. Splintered and glorious.

Colonial American flags, rusty red, not royal in hue

protrude from the frames.

Behind the red wood,

cows laze in hobbit land and fields

where rocks-white-sparkle

in verdant seas.

Father and young boys

dip their fishing rods

in the lake.

A mallard rests near by on the burning pavement


leaking oily red.


Down the road and a bend in the bridge:

a sign.

Eggs for sale –

oval yard sign stands by the wood mailbox,

a mini-fridge holds eggs on the porch.

The mallard hatches to heaven.2977304854_7989da2b76

Reconstruction Site

I want to tell you

I live on a thin raft

constructed far from shore

in a Western reverie

where Pharaoh voices crescendo and narrow beats escape

a singing river – full of friends waiting

to tell me, with dry sand cemented to their fingers –

how the thin raft has escaped.

And my chest is hard.

I want to tell you:

the strange morning is opening;

time for reorientation.

I still need you.

A Steep of Consciousness

Succulent syllables.

Jam. Jamb. Iamb.

sssssalt aand PEP!er

Pep!er and sssssalt.


made of rasp, rasp

berry and lavishing




Who is he? I prefer not, Bartleby.

Sit next to jars and basil pots (not walls)

Leafy leaves leaving the edge

the lip

of sticky marmalade jars.

Herbs and spices, boxed up


spoons from forks from knives from sugar sleeves, from me with love.

The black napkins don’t even stand a chance. Wipe my sticky

rasp rasp berry lips. lined with lavAshing LAVender.


“Do you have smoky butter?”

Not in here.




Do Not Wake the Glittery Bones

The road is steep ,

lined with tiny bones.

All glittery and cold.


If you look in your rearview mirror before the ascent,

the last ice shavings are welded

to the tallest pine tree.

Go slow, up the road.

The tiny bones are sleeping, but alive.

Whisper a lullaby with rubber tires.

Do not wake the glittery bones.

The road guides survivors who wait.

The road takes the blame.



The fish slumber under God’s phalanges. 

They settle beneath kelp and mellow swells that

cannot stop. 

Wooden ships identify the blubbery fish, unknowing 

that big fish do not slumber – 

they rise and saturate

the fish bowl with bubbles – North Star

harnessing helpless plankton.

Men on wooden ships laugh 

at the swarms of big fish. 

The men are wrong. Big fish with blubber do not slumber.

One day the men may slumber

at the intertidal

their phalanges scattered, 

saturated by God’s chirography. 

The Green Fortune

Maybe because I am flying to the Emerald Isle in just 49 days I am attracted to all things green. No, not money. Not envy, greed. Think health. Today I touched weeds, basil, zucchini, and my own moss colored carpet. The garden’s growth has reached the top of the cliff this final week of July and it is ready to throw its harvest over the edge. Here I am, basket in hand, ready to take on cords of squash and colorful purple beets. All that green covers up the jewels. Ruby tomatoes, yellow sapphire squash, and rose quartz turnips – what richness!

One over-grown zucchini begged me to give him a massage-shred into a cinnamony loaf of bread. So I did. In fact, I tried out two recipes and made enough for 2 large and 3 mini loaves. For the minis, I combined honey, milk, coconut oil, cinnamon, flour, and egg. Supposedly, this is a healthy version! In comparison, my original recipe called for 2 1/2 cups of sugar…yikes! Plus a cup of oil, more eggs and flour, and vanilla. Both came out splendidly. Just don’t tell anyone the difference. Next time, however, I would add in raisins or nuts. You can’t argue with a baked good, no matter what is in it, if it has the green goodness.

Immediately after popping those loaves out of the hot oven (on this 90 degree day), I gathered 4 cups of basil from the garden and pureed a delicious pesto! One half cup of toasted pine nuts swirled together in that dark green gyre with Parmesan, lemon, garlic, and oil. Knowing that I would not cook with pesto for at least several days, I poured teh stuff into ice cube trays and froze them. When I’m ready to cook, I will simply pop a few cubes from the freezer and mix into spaghetti. Presto!

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Ah yes, the third green item – kale. The holy grail power green. I munched on kale chips and hummus for lunch, then washed it down with a frosty glass of water. As you might guess -more green – floating in the water. Cucumber and mint! The classics. It appears my theme for the healthy day continues. Thank you, garden.

And see you soon, Ireland.