Poetry

The Sweet Spot

“There are no sermons in stones.” John Burroughs

And you can’t squeeze time

out of a clock, though wouldn’t it be amazing

if you could? I’d squeeze myself back to being

a twelve year-old boy, riding my bike to the field

for a day of pick-up baseball, not a worry

in my brain, not a thought

of the future, not a dime

in my pocket. With my hat down on my forehead,

I’m watching the pitch and swinging for the fence

while trees dance to that blue music,

the daffodils,

a chorus of yellow singing

like birds about the divine

glowing in the bushes and grass.

I see a deer near the treeline listening

to stones rising up to preach—

those slow, gravelly voices

reminding us that whatever happens

is what will happen, that life is a ladder leaning

against the heavens. My job is to breathe and climb.

Life Painting [to Each Their Own]

for Russell Edson

A painting of the ocean

fell out of his left ear

and landed on shore.

He bent down to wipe the sand off

but thought, no, it belongs there.

He grabbed at his right ear

and pulled out a small painting of a fish,

probably a salmon.

He set the fish painting on

the ocean painting and then coughed up

a painting of the sun, bright and yellow,

blazing in a royal blue sky.

After he placed the sun

on the ocean and fish,

he dragged a rowboat to the water’s edge,

pushed it out

and sailed into a world

no one else

could see.

The Perfect Day

“Give me books, French wine, food, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I don’t know.” John Keats

I get the books and food and wine.

I certainly get the thing about the weather.

It’s the music played

by someone

I don’t know that confuses me.

Maybe it’s a bad sign

if you know the musician

because then you’re forced to listen

and act like you enjoy the music

when, really, what you want

are simply notes banking off the pines,

falling into the grass like rain.

All you want is to lie back,

close your eyes, feel the sun

on your face, the wine on your tongue,

and let your brain drift into the divine.