Posts Tagged ‘lake’

Wish We Were There

Posted: April 4, 2011 in My Poetry
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Here, the stars are plentiful.
No city lights to dim their glow.
Two huge moons,
one in the water, rippling
with silent laughter,
the other floats overhead,
a giant, yellow balloon.

Sounds in the surrounding gloom
don’t frighten. The lonely howl
of a coyote. The scrabble
of claws on sandstone.

Your arms around me, warm
breeze of breath
on the back of my neck
make anywhere
my paradise.

4-2-11

Lake Powell

Posted: January 17, 2011 in My Poetry
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Pink clouds in a sky
blue as an eggshell.

Sheer cliffs
rise from black water:
Looming monoliths.

Two crows float by,
sheen of blue sky
on oily black feathers.

Echo-crows
repeat hoarse cries
as the sun angles low
over western cliffs,
burnishing water
to a rich, copper glow.

For a time,
everything’s suspended
in that shining water;
cliffs, crows, sky.

We float on gentle waves
of molten ore
as the sun itself
melts in.

Palisades

Posted: September 4, 2010 in My Poetry
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Green water,
like the kayak.

Silence
all around.
Blue heron
low over water;

beneath is a city
of tumbled rock.
Koi swim in and out
of plants so tall
they reach
the water’s surface.

Toads chirrup
and some duck
with a white bill
dives away from sight.

Blue dragonflies
hover in swarms,
just above the water.

If I have to live,
here’s a reason:

the beauty of this world.

Under a stunted
tree, shaped by wind,
water slapped the shore.

The moon
both swam and sailed
as stars reeled
up above.

You knotted my hair
in your fist
and dragged me
from the car.

Such a beautiful setting
for love.
Such a beautiful setting
for crime.

Nature
doesn’t distinguish,
judge or blame;
just watches
with its thousand stars
and that solitary moon.

Toads burp into darkness;
natural sounds, broken
only by your ragged breath.

My tears are silent.
They don’t mean
anything.

Audio Reading

We ride into dawn
in a rented dinghy:
Faded orange life-vests
over layered flannel shirts.

As dawn warms into morning,
we shed our clothes like skins,
until we sit in swimsuits,
life-vests left tangled in cast off clothing.

Still as a wooden figurehead,
you curl over the prow,
wearing sunlight on your back;
fishing pole slack in your hands,
lure under the lake
like spinning sunken treasure.

At the rear of the boat
the boys watch the trout
towed behind us
like demented pull-toys.
The fish gasp and flip,
fighting the metal hooked into their gills.

One fish has deep scars
like stripes on a tiger;
evidence of some battle –
just to end up gutted,
spilling roe
like pearls,
as dark blood stains my shoes.

Looking Glass

Posted: May 23, 2010 in My Poetry
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I watch
you
through my smokescreen
with
pale, burning eyes.
I can’t believe
I knew you
once;
a shimmer
on the lake.

You
catch my face
in glances.
Looking crepe paper streaks
to my tears.
I love you
in hatred
and hate you
in love,
then dive deeper
inside of
my black.

Offish
I stand
looking down
through the glass
that separates me
from you.
I hazard
a smile
when you look up –
For a moment
I think we might
touch.
But you
bump the glass,
the image is smeared.
And I dive
back into my black.

I carry the sign of
you
painted inside me,
in a damp, quiet part of
my brain.

I would drown it
within
when I dove to
the dark,
but
it’s an intricate part
of my pain.

Willard Bay

Posted: March 27, 2010 in My Poetry
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Tough clumps of yellow grass
lean down to wet marshland
where reeds hide nests and birds.
Long legged water fowl
cry in harsh voices;
haunt the barren grey land.

Past the marsh is lake
covered by milky grey ice,
like a cataract on an eye;
shading and concealing.
The dull grainy sheets intermingle
with the gleam of deep black water,
welling into the spaces
where ice is breaking up

Spring is almost here,
the air, moist and bitter;
the scent of decay and new life.
The cold has lost its edge,
but wind blowing off the water
sends white birds wheeling
through the sky
like so many blown leaves.