February 6, 2016


When I cannot sleep,
I know, if I lie still,
my mind a fallow field,
sleep will soon enough 
plough me under,
catching me off-guard,
abandoning me
to my dreams of spring,
when the rest
of the world
is merely waking—
unexpected sleep,
a gift brazenly stolen
from morning hours,
a bit of mad money
squirreled under the mattress
of time and forgotten,
only to be gathered up
later, in the fall,
when it's needed
most of all.

February 2, 2016


Every hour,
a jet from Phoenix
flies over
on final approach,
gear down, the pilot running
one more time 
through his checklist.

Some passengers 
think they're home,
others needlessly worry
about making

I've seen them staring
off into the distance,
for some kind of sign,
dragging their baggage
slowly behind,
not yet knowing
they've arrived in a place
no one leaves,

a terminus
in the heart
of the country,
their one-way ticket
clutched in hand,
as they begin, at last,
to understand.

January 29, 2016

The Silence

Voices seek me out
in the silence,
to walk me through
dreams of the past
in their presence.
They wait for me even now
to go with them,
following wherever
they lead,
to take their word
for whatever is coming,
telling me I must leave
those I love,
knowing I can't hide here,
forever, if I hope
to ever see them,

January 26, 2016

Where Or When

Rain is supposed
to arrive today,
falling wherever
rumors come true.
Another prediction
already seems
to have made it so,
even though
we're still dry,
imagining rain
falling out of the sky,
quenching our thirst,
soaking the earth
through and through.
If only words
could make it appear.
We've been waiting
for a hundred years,
hearing time and again
it's coming soon,
though no one knows
where or when.

January 22, 2016

Dream Sleep

I was asleep
but did not know
I slept.
I was in a dream
but never knew
I dreamt. And now
I lay awake,
but do not know
my wakefulness
to be different
from my dreams,
because at last
they have merged into one,
and all my waking life
is the same
as when I dream
I am still with you,
sleeping through time,
dreaming eternity.

January 19, 2016

Sea of Sand

The wind is up
again, tonight,
blowing hard
'til morning light,
making waves
on our sea of sand,
forever cleansing
our dream-filled land.
It's been flowing
through here
for a million years,
deepening each line
on your furrowed brow,
making us wonder
what will happen, now.
It awakens us
as it's done before,
from our deepest sleep,
so far from shore.
Perhaps it will
stir us still,
when we fall asleep,
at last, once more.