Swimming in late
evening low orange 
sandalwood sticks burn 
and jazz coddles
as I recall 
looking at eating 
and then bed
sleep and dream
bobbing about in
the bubble home 

Blank sheet
of paper 
no ink
in pen
how to 
do over 
what’s already 
been done 
no ideas
just sitting 
in silence 
maybe tomorrow 
will come 
a thaw
and frozen 
pipes will 
once again 
run

Share what 
you have 
beyond what 
you need 
for the
giving is
a greater 
sign of 
prosperity and 
abundance than 
getting ever
will be 

Like some meaning
that emerges slowly 
and almost by
happenstance from the 
murkiness of night 
the mountains appear 
this early morning 
foot soldiers stepping 
forward behind captain 
leading the charge 
a line of 
them shoulder to 
shoulder of rock
hold the line 
is distant heard
as the sun
and its day
slowly marches forward 

It’s become more 
out there than
in here more 
residual than resourceful 
an after thought 
taste and all 
the butter burnt 
on the pan 
a dust gathered
on things that 
have not been 
moved in long 
frequently forgotten and 
remembered only when 
nothing else is