Some recent creations

The Word (2007, 06, 08)

When the word
Springs from its ink on the page
And lights my mind with its cadence
I bend to it
And like the low hanging branches
Of a willow
I weep to be so free from stillness
And silence
And thank the Wind and Word
That made me move


Willard Landscape
May, 2007

Life lives in the lemmings of the shoreline.
They kick up the wind
Letting it lick their feathers
Getting nothing but kicks in its rush

Me too
I am made anew
In the breath of this saline air
Care slides as my soul rides
In green, in wet, in sunburst flare.


On the Art of Jesting
June 8, 2007

If the jesting makes the jester
And the jester makes the jest
What without the fester
Of the jesting jester
Who then would make the rest?

And what of a resting jester
Who never makes a jest
Then without jesting
The resting jester
Is nothing but a pest.