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Month: May 2016

Maple Tree on a Morning in May

The maple tree by the pond
glowed in a kind of green
phosphorescence
as I watched its leaves wave
like a thousand burning hands
in every direction and it occurred to me
that it was utterly alive and it could not be
anything but a phosphorescent green.

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The Trout

The trout are waiting as they always have
finning the pebbled bottom of the stream
to eat nymphs and occasionally break
the foamy surface to sample
the latest floating specimen

Every spring they wait for the water to warm
as I wait for the air to warm; I am not
the young boy who happily trudged miles
down the pre-dawn road into the brush
and over and beyond boulders to hunt.

The trout were still new and magical
in coats of pink or mottled brown,
disappearing into the variegated
stones below. I loved their fight and
inspected their guts on opening them up.

My body now wearies of such stimulation.
With others, I am less sure than the boy
after his fish, but feel no less compelled
to carefully see them up close and
maybe watch as we both open up.

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The Most Obvious Thing

There are people who awoke
this morning on a promontory
in the middle of the ocean

with the waves whipping about
who can barely hear themselves
breathe and bear no echo

of their thoughts, so that “I am”
is as substantial as a passing swell
and only when they move about

do they realize that yes indeed
this steep rock is slippery and
my fear of sliding in is not fantasy.

Nor are the bleachers of bystanders
who watch in astonishment as if
the next move, to get off that rock

should be the most obvious thing
in an otherwise unobvious universe.
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The First Punch

My father beat his sons
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