Photo by Dan Fraser


In the gathered green distance

of his choices

a curious animal turns towards

the nine rainbows of conclusion

he knows some things cannot be

even when he considers trusting

the wild eyes of now

the voice of here

or the rumors of anywhere

he has to tell his story

including the nine tilted windmills

of connection


Creature of habit

Photo by Dan Fraser


this life can seem like

a collection of rags

and second hand words

hung on an empty shell

of habit

other times

I go to the woods

a lover of the ancient cedar

where I heal with my hands

in the hum of the holy ghost



           White on the ground

            grey in the hair

            spark in the eye


The silence

observes my entry

into the apparently empty room

gathers a thousand tiny bits of darkness

and drops them gently

over my searching eyes