Keep Moving
it might
be raining
sheets
soaking down the dirt
a spot for the stem
the river rises
a puddle forms
the streets slicken
all awash
town and country
fields and parking lots
all the soles
rushing to and fro
like scurried squirrels
grazed by tread
the drops miss nothing
above or below
‘cept the blur
the blink
was that a hummingbird
TL
Duh
like DWTS
without Derek
like 007
without Connery
like country music
without Chesney
like movies
without Caviezel
like the Tide
without Saban
like golf
without Tiger
like Rocky
without Stallone
like rap
without Eminem
like rock
without Elvis
like the news
without Cronkite
like the big screen
without Hanks
like Kung Fu
without Lee
like superman
without Reeve
like About Schmidt
without Nicholson
like comedy
without Carrey
like Titanic
without Leo
like action
without Statham
like a voice
without Freeman
like Thor
without Hemsworth
yeah, ya can’t do DWTS
without Derek
duh
TL
The Tree
it stands
unmoved
by birds
of feather
that land
haphazard
on its limb
resting ever
in its arms
singing sweetly
to the day
for the tree
has been there
before
beautiful birds
cannot be caged
they go whence the wind
beyond the borders of the forest
a million moons away
they wing
far from buried roots
and blades
some come back
someday
others never do
the tree understands
that
like the spider
that climbs its grooves
looking to spin
or the butterfly that breezes by
leaving its cocoon
or the mother bird
her nest of cracked shells
those are ornamental things
ordinary in nature
it stands
a thousand years
more
to feel the print
of a wayward child
that looks up, up, up
amazed
and all the loss
of lesser things
matter not
to the tree
for it knows
not even the slant of rain
can remove
a child’s handprint
from its heart
TL
Create
the Pacific
the Atlantic
the Indian
the Arctic
the water moves
high tide, low tide
it’s liquid across all four
spilling over sand
pulling up letters
flooding the palace
a tsunami
of sorts
what we go through
as human beings
at different levels
of sea
what drowns
what floats
what you try to keep dry
and save
maybe that’s why the sky
is such a sacred thing
it connects a people
to a place
we look up
from below
like an ant on a hill
the clouds shred apart
to reveal the grey
a dab of white and black
blended on the board
and brushed against canvas
the Artist works
in charcoal
TL
Ways
people get stuck
in the ways
in the passenger seat
the front row
the bedding
the cell
the shoes
the grave
the height of pleasure
brewed and burned
that full feeling
nuked and trashed
the depth of denial
coursing through
the weathervane
‘cause you go to work
and do your job
and pay your bills
and sign your name
and give a dime
and sit in church
and laugh on cue
and go to that thing
and hold that door
and nod your head
and throw that ball
and light that wick
and cook that meal
and run that race
and net that fish
and cut the grass
and sift the sand
and bring the flowers
and walk the dog
and bake the cake
and paint the fence
and nail the roof
and bang the drums
and clear the clutter
and save the book
and take the train
and turn the blind
and lift the cup
and light the stick
and shoot it up
and make a mess
and fix your face
and set the timer
and straighten your tie
and wave goodbye
and board the plane
and close your eyes
and walk the aisle
and sit in that chair
and say you’ll be back
and fall off the cliff
and get hit by the bus
and blown away on the plane
and shot by a stranger
and run over by bulls
and sunk by a ship
and taken hostage
and beheaded
and left for dead
boxed or burned
on the return
go stand in the mirror
under the sting
and wipe the film
make like you see
whatever works
TL
Felt
lo and behold
the embodiment
of a being
how one comes to be
who they are
the story behind the story
drawn in
by happenstance
held there
by silence
for tears are quiet creatures
that fall
without knowing
brushed beneath
an Apec blue
TL
Two Years
and just like that
like when it rains
and the sun’s out
was like that
out of nowhere
two years
she gave me back
two years
and it’s common knowledge
to her
like kimchi with each meal
but wholly-cow alien to me
and I’m sitting there
but am I really there
in that café atmosphere
people chomping their pastries and sipping their drug
a child whining, silverware dropping
“what … wait a minute, what …
what did you say … can you repeat that?”
and she does
with the patience she affords her children
“you see, in Korea, when a baby is first born …
a year is added right then. And then when it turns January 1,
we add another year to that.”
I forget what else she said
later on, I show her the only photo I have
and she tells me I look like I’m one
that I was born in 1972
even though my birth certificate from Korea has 1970
you walk around your whole life
with questions you’ll never have answered
lines on a sheet of paper left empty
and they still have my file at the orphanage
but haven’t the information to fill the blanks
so, two years
whether it’s really true or not
I’ll take it
TL
Memorabilia
he had
a TV
in the basement
of that white two-story
a recliner where he’d sit
and unwind
watching mostly sports
but he never missed an episode
of Happy Days
neither did i
tiptoed on the stair
quietly sitting there
he’d let out a roar of laughter
and i always thought he looked
so much like the Fonz
with his dark hair combed straight back
and i think sometimes
he knew i was there
roaring with him
but he never let on
he’d come home with candy in his pockets
and have me guess which one
peanut or plain m&ms
we’d spend hours in the snow
building men
and baseballs
he was so much like a kid
filled with joy
we’d walk the woods
and he’d pick me up
and put me on the highest boulder
summers he spent mowing the grass
and i’d tote him some tea
and he’d act like it was the best drink
in the whole wide
i followed him everywhere
but there
he wouldn’t let me
go there
TL
In the Mourning
can’t
what you think
you can’t do
is done
every day
feet on the floor
one step two
primal pain
the second you’re never the same
people go on
and on
even when they think
they can’t
do that
they do
feeling forsaken
a life taken
waking up a stranger
lost in the wilderness
of where to go
now
which way points up
a compass held
by both
the weak and the strong
in and out of centuries
the mantle of inheritance
what it is
to understand
where you are
where you’ve been
in the nothingness of pitch
nothing changes
unmoved
so says the ray
that goes forth
from the sun
and moments the moon
TL
White Rabbit
the moss
looks velvet
on the tree
a smudge of summer
there
where the white mushroom
opens its umbrella
to roof the rain
a lingering leaf on a limb
refuses to fall
the seasons in submission
I long for spring
the growing everywhere
in England it must be magic there
cobblestone and window-boxes
fresh berries and scones
the clatter of cups and saucers
lilly bells a-ringing
the little shop
cracked in leather
bound books
primed in proper prose
plucked in petals
lost in love
the knoll
is velvet
like the moss
a place to drift
once the cup is empty
and all the words are spent
on things that cost
the Queen
too much
in commonwealth
TL
All Along
past the cloud
beyond the ray
the dip of the day
what the wake left
a footprint in the dirt
handprint on the glass
red on the rim
a bird’s wing
somebody’s stuff
a frosted mug
a copper kettle
the page unturned
the script at crawl
where’s the wind
is it in the east
where the gardenias grow
he’s still pulling up the hose
carrying it around
is it the break of day
already
where did the porch swing
come from
what happened to the trike
the horn
there’s no buggy left to push
simplifies the choice
and it’s raining
or was
the caterpillar went cocooning
a derby horse
at down
the laces need tying
a double knot
segments in an orange
seeds in the core
the pit
the peel
who’s at the door
did that song get played
who heard it
was it beautiful
the arrangement
field formation
who looks at the score
it’s the run game
what you endure
in the allotment
upgrade
the status
we were meant to wonder
to look out
past the cloud
the ray
TL
Last Night
a 5 year old
asked
an 8 year old
“what happened
to Copper?”
the 8 year old
never said
the 5 year old
asked
“what is that …
what is that
coming out
of your eyes?”
TL
Toni Long
there were three
and she was
one of ‘em
and I can still
see her now
crunching that green
apple
‘cause she didn’t
have time for lunch
she kept her hair
real short
‘cause she didn’t
have time to fuss
not a trace of shadow
on her face
she was all about
wellness
that’s what
she taught us
in all her
Britannica brilliance
and she was always in a hurry
to get somewhere
‘cause somebody needed her
badly to be there
and when we’d talk
our talks
she made me feel like
I was the most important person
like what I had to say mattered
enough to slow down
and I remember one day
after class
asking her not about
wellness
but about life
the tragedies of life
and how could I help
all of that
how could I grow up
and make it better
here’s what she told the kid:
“you have to think
of the world
as a great big pie
none of us get
the whole pie
we only get a slice
and you have to
figure out
for yourself
how to make
that slice count …
you can’t change
the whole world
and its problems
none of us can
but you can take a slice of it
and do something great
you can make a difference
in the world
that way
give something back
that’s how you make it better
I know you can do that”
TL
2015
the fizz
in the flutes
fizzled
the baubles
on the tree
bounced
the crumbs Santa left
wiped
the stringy lights
spooled
the ribbon and wrap
tossed
the yuletide chorus
replaced
all your good intentions
centered
the newness of the year
listed
your measure of resolve
tested
in the business of being
awake
TL
Copper
in the dark
of night
we stood
under the stars
and felt no rain
lost in our own drops
our daughter’s dog
is dead
buried in the willows
of roses and remorse
TL
Unspoken
seven days
before Christmas
found myself
standing in a stable
watching children
gallop in sandy circles
the land is open
beyond the wooden fence
the gates
things are simple here
like apple orchards
like a mare
with her slow gait
a hush within a hurricane
she lets small hands
lead her
poses for a picture
listens to them talk
pat her goodbye
she heads to her stall
and we head to our car
and there’s another car
pulling in
and the kids get out
their mother I know
from school
we chat the usual
I look over
and see the window
rolled down
there’s a woman on the passenger side
I go over to say, “hello”
it’s her mother visiting from Korea
in the very back seat
sits her father
I wave hello
they get out of the car
and we’re all standing there talking
they in their Korean
me in my English
the daughter is translating
she tells them I was born in Seoul
and adopted
they look at me …
they see me
we hug each other
they walk over to my daughter
they hold her close
I need no translator
TL
Cultivation
globs of snow
dot the dirt
along a stretch
of frozen rows
mirrored in the horizon
hazy in the silence
of the morning ray
steamed in breath
the crimson tractor
sits ever ready
to plow a new path
over the old
and fat are the hens
that strut in their hutch
high off
corn and cotton
they lay their eggs
their work is done
as the cattle chew
and the mule
stands waiting
for something to happen
TL
The Call
we are
a call away
all of us
a call away
the phone rings
for some
before daylight
for others
nightlight
and nobody
wants to take that call
hear those words
you’re never ready
to hear those words
no matter how many times
you’ve taken that call
there’s still a question
haven’t asked
still a story
haven’t heard
still a laugh
haven’t laughed
still a moment
haven’t had
still that much
haven’t done
said
TL
December
diamond drops
dress the wooded tree
a distant wink of tinsel
in the amber light
of a torrential dawn
that left the parade
floating
the policeman in a puddle
the streets shown
the gray morning
a reprieve
before the bustle
deep pockets
and hurried squirrels
those letters mailed North
the music slows
the dog dreams of a bone
hams and turkeys
parcels and pudding
a star on top
the story of old
“no room at the inn …”
TL
What Love Is
he kept
looking down
at his watch
he knew what time
it started
at the appointed hour
he got up
from the table
and walked across
the kitchen floor
to the glass door
and stood there
staring out …
his boy being buried
his wife at the table
she doesn’t know
she forgot what they told her
he couldn’t leave her
TL