pebbled poems strewn along the shore of this life

First pub. in The Houston Review



utah bolder

eye widening rock
pastels bold in harvest's sun--
basalt garden wonder

--

dying leaves fluttering
scarlet
oaks and aspen into glory

--

at the park's bat box

my grandson scooping up handfuls
of dust
and swinging it loose--
fogged clouds
lighted by sunshine
that disperse
back to cleated ground

--

gull wings
lightly spraying over gray clod fields

6-year drought--
so 'irrigating'!

--

photo:lkaklimited

--

date palms swaying up
in crimson's sky
feather dusting
dusk


--



Lapping Ideas

Backstroking across the ceiling
white gulls of light arcing
wing refraction

from the high intensity bulbs above
that shekel-flash on the blue body waves of the pool
bright incandescent—dare we say transcendent—lights

swimming in this liquid marble
strikes of lightening broken
and broken on the waves
like archetypes that shimmer in this cavern
and electrify under water across the blue cement,
chimeras of our mental synapses;

After the swim, stepping out the glass door
into the brilliant sunlight--

Shades of Plato.

--

shadowed mail box
overwhelmed by green, purple
bloom jungled wonder


--


Morning

a trail of dashes
translucent on our red brick--
night's telltale caller

--


lines, no white clothes but
birds black in a row clothes-pinned
to telephone wires

--


starbacked

starbacked night, coffee-drunk sky:
rows of cars metal
at the red orb,
anonymous

a lone skateboarder foot-struts,
waiting for the flash of sage green
his board-wheeler a bill of adding
getting a toehold
from the faceless

hidden in their dark auto glass
street
fathomless

when all dreams night
into marred perception

--


Fog rising in the west
Watercolor washed
Horizon faded jean
Sky filled east
By the blazing sun
Over
Our
Central Valley

--

falling like cold ash--prayer in our last hour

--

dusked stars, galactic stream--shimmering in twilight

--

snow falls to crystal
path deep white over my knees--
light inside my head

--




ice melts
clear splashes on the teak matt
our heat,
'tinder' intense caresses
and our slushious kiss

--

warped fence boards in sand
lean askew toward green windbreak--
old gnarled cypress

--

horse trailer rattles
by curved eucalyptus leaves
that skit to gutter

--

yellow-beaked birds perch
in the wind-shifted branches
clamorous squawking


--

Cambria fire

green vines wind up fences
bursting with succulent grapes--
but dusted in ash

--

crinkly gray strands caught
in my black brush of bristles
approaching heir time

--

Up Early

In the gray-hazed dawn
Pale light blossoms
Softly explode from a violet tree
Rising by a jade-green hedge
Birdsong morning

--

Night Watch Psalm

Walled granite
Moonlight
One mile
Down
Below the rocked rim
In the rusted Canyon
Rushing Colorado
River russet copper;
Nearby in the evened dusk
I lay ‘stilled,’ a silent psalm
In the shine
Of that lighted granite
Eyes wide in the dawn
Of that Night


--


Misplaced?

Lost?
Seek the moral compass
Round the world ringed
Compassioned--
Don't pass by on the other side;
Be passionate
And encompass
Love's Sphere
Found

--

starlight
when one doesn't
see the dark

---

Some poems first pub. in The Green Silk Journal, Stylus Poetry Journal, Idlewheel, ink sweat and tears, 4 and 20 poetry, Full of Crow, The Cherry Blossom Review, etc.

In poetry's lightness,

Dan Wilcox

The Stormy Great Lakes, American Heartland Exploration

Enjoying the summer weather of down-to-earth-30’s&40’s, hail, snow, heavy rains, etc. Here’s a photo of us on a warmer day:-)
I call our 5-week personal discovery of the Great Lakes, the American Lower Middle Heartland, etc.
the Stormy Exploration.

We loved our long vacation of exploring lighthouses, historic sites, and quilting stores, but sunny it was NOT.

Never before have we not seen the sun for weeks in our travels.
Heck, we've gone to Northwest (Portland, Seattle, Idaho for the Total Eclipse) several times in the last few years and, surprisingly, always encountered warm cloudless days!
And gone on trips including the Outer Banks, Georgia, Florida, etc. in September but only encountered a short tropical storm in the Outer Banks. The rest was warm sun all the way.

BUT the Great Lakes excursion was something else! STORMY TRIP NUMERO UNO

Driving across Colorado, I ran into a snow storm in the 3rd week of May before I even got to the high Rockies. Ironically, when I reached Loveland Pass, the sun actually peaked out of the clouds for an hour or so, the only sun I would see in for weeks.

In eastern Colorado and western Kansas, I had to knuckle down on my Ram's steering wheel battling against 30-40 knot cross winds. On the scary side, but I rolled on figuring I would stay on the highway as long as the semi's did. (However, later, when cross winds got worse, semi's kept being pushed out of their lanes. One semi in front of me was pushed out of its lane onto the shoulder by the harsh winds 4 times in a block and a half. Much of the time I, therefore avoided, passing the huge trucks, realizing to a scary degree the danger.

Then in central Kansas, I encountered a huge lightning storm--glaring lightning above me, and to both sides. And rain, of course.

In a humorous mood, I texted my sweetheart (who was going to fly into K.C. to be picked up) that it was just me and Toto crossing Kansas. BUT THEN I got a critical text on my phone from the U.S. Weather Service warning us to seek shelter because of severe weather including that 2 tornadoes had touched down in our area!

The Severe Weather Warning said the worst area was between road posts 195 and 204. You can believe your eyes that I quickly started reading the posts in the rain as I passed.
When I saw that the next post was 205, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Tragically, however, while I was having an adventure, many others weren't. That week houses were wrecked, a few people died, rivers overflowed including the Missouri along the South Dakota-Iowa-Nebraska borders, flooding homes and farm fields.

By the time I got to K.C., and then Missouri it was raining cats and hippos.

And when it wasn't it was overcast and grim. By the time, I picked my wife up and we drove into Illinois, it finally stopped raining for a couple of days, but the heavy overcast remained with sweltering humidity that melted us like the wicked witch of the east in The Wizard of Oz.

Then when we got to the Great Lakes and the temperatures dropped into the 30's and 40's, mainly caused by a very icy wind blowing out of the great North.

And it rained off and on. When we reached the border between Upper Michigan/Wisconsin and Minnesota, it hailed and rained cats and hippos again!

When we got back to Iowa, the Interstate 29 was closed down the Iowa-Nebraska border for at least 70 miles because of the Missouri flooding. So, like many places all across the center of the U.S., there were road closures and detours.

Everywhere creeks were flooding, fields drenched in shallow ponds covering large parts of them.
Etc.:-)

Finally, after 4 weeks of climate change, when we got back to K.C., visited the Zoo, the weather turned hot and sunny.

And I encountered plenty of sunny weather when I got to Oklahoma...

To be continued (all about the history sites I visited)