Three from Third Wednesday (poem)

As Things Are

Pink and glistening umbilicus

writhes blindly among the peony roots.

Tiny, scarlet-feathered dinosaurs

pull it wriggling from the soil.

I grin and bare my pacu teeth

and watch with my chimpanzee eyes.


Driving on an August Evening

Cicada’s hacksaw jabber storming

the air of Highway 46, tree-song 

and dusk-wind and engine-hum,

Brown County’s sunset burning

behind us, the clouds fire-misty

and smoking like barges steaming

for westward ports, the night

ignited, her eyes afire her

smile wide the pines melting

against that deep Rothko sky—

berries, bonfires, red lips, gold corn.


On a Ferry for Beaver Island, MI

The horizon a smooth edge

of a turquoise bowl,

waves of crumpled paper.

Azure bliss of namelessness,

wave-carried beneath the clouded dome.

The world a simplicity of blue and white,

and, beyond,

a growing beach of green.



These poems first appeared in Volume X, Issue 1 of Third Wednesday. They are included in my upcoming book of poetry, Bright Soil, Dark Sun, published through Finishing Line Press.






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