A cloud is born From river’s edge As rain begins to fly The sun leaks out From building gaps As clouds and clear-sky mix I seek a bridge A makeshift roof To hide and keep me dry But then I see A mother mad— Her …
Read MoreNew York Harbor
Leaf and flower Have fallen in the windA petal gone The ocean never endsThe sea mist comes An unexpected guestAs even now The gray moon lingers westWhat little air Has blown with pure scentMy father gone The door from which he wentAs dust is dry …
Read MoreHudson River
For thousands of years The Hudson River’s flowed Today I see A pleasure boat stowed September day With net-like, wet-washed gray I think of her A thousand miles away
Read MoreReturning Through the Blue Manhattan Streets When Evening Dies
Abandoned streets Reveal a city’s state From each I see Reflected light in clouds The path I take Shows lights in neon red From each a hill Above the midnight crowds The birds are gone Departed sunset winds A new moon came Between the wind-blown …
Read MoreThe Abyss
The Earth is a language Spoken as if from an abyss Blind we move our arms, flailing Between the rocks and water Fungus and mold, Coral edges when all is cold The fishermen rescue us, Repair our broken limbs But there are no victors, no …
Read MorePlum Garden
For Boris and Miona They find a garden lush with plum-air scents As spring sun filters through the dew-dust leaves And subtle sighs arise while fruit ferments, For Eden enters Earth when minds conceive. Within the garden deep an oak tree grows, Preserving plum and …
Read MoreStairway
The stairway sits empty In silent echoes from yesterday When so much Filled the halls, darkly, Like a performance at Carnegie Hall After all the music dies On one cacophonous note
Read MoreVenice, California
I sit and watch the waters flowing by Before the flower gardens seen by all: A place like this you’re free to loosen ties And break the empty shell of sudden squalls. Back home the path unwinds a thousand links Of men and women full …
Read MoreA Country Road
The moon has shadowed me, like stillborn air Along a country road, adrift in threads, Behind a worn out wheel, the pedals bare, As time leaves nothing here but cast off dead. I share these words with clouds in wind-washed treads, Where rock-strewn shores in …
Read MoreView from Central Park
as fog hangs over the tops of buildings touched by limbs of bare-branched trees in awe I feel the autumn morning this winter in Manhattan
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