"... would the heron's body darken with my sins ..."

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Dancing Bear

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Dancing Bear reads "Heron at Dusk" in Real Audio

Somewhere Between Here and There

I am sitting with the ducks____again
ones that never fly____anywhere
not for a season____or change
Autumn____that cold garnet____in half light
lands on us____God____I am here
and do not want to be____she said
I am a coward____and there is
so much truth to this____that I run away
from it again____it is over____like summer
gone with a gray day____that chills into me
fingers my spine____I am afraid of failure
the job the poetry____this woman
that husband in another city____someone
in a black jacket____the hand in a pocket
everyone else's____confidence
that autumnal shadow stretching
out to touch winter
it's all something striking my fear
you can't be a good guy____and feel desire
and own it____not in this life____my life
where summer closes its eye
and walks away____door left open
moaning for that road____sitting so still
so empty____waiting for the changes
I fooled myself____as these ducks have
every year____the fast sunsets pull at
their wings____and they deny it
their greens and browns no less shiny for it
I cannot save them____return them
to a forgotten migratory path
I cannot save anything____and I have tried
I have tried____Lord____I have sinned and tried
against all that is sacred in my skin____I have
and these birds climb out of their____ manmade pond
expecting me to give them what they want____food
my pockets____empty____as my skin





The High School Music Instructor in Fall

I held her between my legs____and arms
understanding every curve
she had scars
evidence of previous lovers____each fall
fat fingered____clumsy brutes____bruising
flailing____their way out of class
I rubbed her neck____cradled her
warmed her____gave her a song
something____deep____sad____but beautiful
she was not my desire____I wanted another
but they'd all been taken
when it was my turn to pick
I chose her for all the wrong reasons
next tallest____next deepest____next best thing
I didn't appreciate her____but learned
to make music from her
accepting my cello fate






Heron at Dusk

on a lake reflecting a dusk sky
music of crickets and frogs
buzz of mosquitoes and dragonflies

standing a short distance
from shore a heron
one leg elegance
neck bending to reflection

if I left my soul
in this place
walked away from its beauty
my hollow footsteps
knocking the road

would it seep into soil
creep into root
possess a nettle or bamboo
would it enter water
dilute itself as a chemical --
so many parts per million
would it enter the heron
flap wings expect to fly
would the heron's body darken
with my sins
would it still hunger for fish
or would it crave hamburgers

what would it think of
seeing the old shell walk on the road
familiar odd familiar funny
possible predator

would the crickets the frogs
dragonflies and mosquitoes now
sound like food

would the sky look a more
intense shade of purple
the lake a darker reflection