Monday, April 9, 2018


Driving west
into an unknown country
is a deliberate mystery
You don't know 
what you'll need
or what you'll find on the radio
The land pushes up green waves 
and sand hills
where birds hide 
during the day
and you hear them 
at night.
At the end
is the ocean
where the sun says
enough--time to
sit still on the shore 
and let the waves do the talking.

Saturday, March 3, 2018

On Farragut Square 

Daylight turns to darkness
and man made lights turn on
along the Avenue 

Admiral Farragut is standing here
as a statue silhouetted high
on a plinth because he sent his fleet forward 
and damning the torpedoes 

It's about this time
fleets of FedEx and UPS trucks double park
around the square damning the traffic
as they load their cargoes 
and sail into the sea of highways
on an evening breeze.

Sunday, January 14, 2018


Book TV

Whenever I watch TV shows
like Downton Abbey
I notice the magnificent libraries
lined with leather-bound books
I usually pick out a book
from the highest shelf
and wonder what’s on page one

There are so many
Who picked them out
Do some never get read
Have others given inspiration
to the reader to break away
and do something new
maybe there’s a missing book
left on a train

Do the books stay with the house
like part of its red blood cells
giving the rooms life
or do they get sold off in hard times
with the furnishings
Maybe they could write a whole episode
on a book in the library.

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Why There Will Always be a Monday

Because grey skies
and rain need a place to call home
Because Sunday night blues
couldn’t work if we returned to Tuesday
Monday keeps everyone honest
returning us to an uphill trail
climbing to the scenic overlook of Friday
They say you can see two whole days
from Friday’s vantage point
According to the International Standards Organization
the first day of the week is Monday
Some old religions would say
it’s the second day
but reading Genesis
God started work on the cosmos
on a Monday.
Etymologists would note
it’s a moon day
More people commit suicide
and call in sick on this day
Monday was wash day
and has been called
big, black, blue, clean, cyber, wet, mead, manic
and miracle.
Monday is at the dark end of the calendar 
waiting for us to return.

Saturday, August 5, 2017

Up North

Bluebird Fish Dinner #3

The silver grey scales
of the Whitefish I ate at the Bluebird Bar
matched the color of
the county road
I drove since Cadillac
leading up north through a sea of pines
to rent a cabin at the end
of a peninsula.

The day before my fresh water fish
swam beneath Lake Michigan white caps
under hard blue aurora skies
and popcorn clouds
its shimmering scales dazzled the sun for a moment
like the halo of a tilted Milky Way
I would watch that night
with a friend from Indiana

The Whitefish is a cold water fish
making me think
maybe the glaciers that carved these shores
and filed these lakes
not so long ago
would return like a neighborhood of angry fathers
to restore their defaced work
but not until I ate a few more summers of fish at the Bluebird Bar.

Leland Panorama

The green and grey Janice Sue
is moored at her dock on display at Fishtown,

There’s a yellow sea plane on the north lake
skimming the water moments before lifting into the air.

Nothing moves on the surface of the big lake
except ripples and rolling shadows.

At the Jolli-Lodge the bikes lie scattered over the lawn
as if they’d been struck by a shock wave.

Nearby under a forest green lamp sits a black Weber grill
closely tended by a white molded plastic lawn chair.

The white birches are resting
not like yesterday when they hissed and fizzed with their silver leaves.

Cloud Formation

Clouds move in as fog
on Good Harbor Bay
in the dark morning
before the farmers awake

More clouds spew from the nostrils of fisherman
like fire-breathing dragons
on the deck of the Joy
and then evaporate into the fog.

Sunday, May 28, 2017

TV Test Pattern

It was the end
back when TV stations
shut off and went to bed
like the rest of the civilized world

I would watch till
the last of the late, late movies ended
till the flag waving star-spangled banner
or the poem having touched the hand of God

I looked on helpless
until my last companion turned away
posting a sign on the door
a test pattern of lines and numbers
commanded by determined Indian in a head dress

You knew it was the end
because after one last desperate
twist of the dial through thirteen UHF channels
there was desolation
and off you went to dream
under a blanket of white static.