Poetry

All poems are free,

the only way they’re meant to be.

But if you’d like

a personal copy,

I’ll write you one for $10

and put it in the mail.

Grandpa

Norwich, 2016

I hear you

in the wind-chimes

bellowing.

Yodeling too, and carrying on

with tales of conflict and lore.

It’s a lust for life that suits you,

a big bellied man

with a kid in each hand,

rich with the love of your family.

You care for the land

and the forest around you

as if it is your own,

and you drink from the wind

and spread it around

as if it were never unknown.

These are the stories we share when you’re gone,

these are the stories that need you,

these are the stories you made here on earth

and somehow these stories precede you.

I hear you,

in the wind-chimes,

bellowing.

American Moment

Miami, 2018

It’s a powerful moment we’re gripped by

when Pakistani women push for change

unfettered by gender oppression,

when Saudi woman take their place behind the wheel

and make haste with their right to vote.

But wage equality remains yet to be met

in a country once admired,

and the language reserved for women

still carries the complicated connotation

of what we mean

when we say

girl.

To live in a dichotomous time

of repression and reform

feels an increasingly American Moment.

Dawn

Iceland, 2017

These shores have stood for centuries

where tides of time have come and gone,

‘midst mountains gods have trodden

elves about their golden lawn.

And we look at the light

and realize our place

beaten back by winds of change,

and see in her face

a world far before us,

a time when all rose at dawn.

Nordic River

Iceland 2017

Even a Nordic river

winds its way

from source to sea

down mountains made of ice

through streams of what will be

the serpentine expression

of time’s eternal tale

of rivers run

and valleys carved

where nature will prevail.

Delta

Amsterdam, 2018

Here in the delta of Europe

where nearly every body of water

is managed by man

there is a magic

that has been lost.

Through our mastery of management

we have contained and curtailed her,

and amorphous majesty

made straight and narrow

in the image of man.

Where is she meant to meander,

to twist and turn at her whim?

Where is she meant to change her pace,

to go fast, cut deep and grow thin?

Might we expect, she’d lose along the way,

the strength of her riverborn character?

Might we have seen, in the edifice of dams,

a caustic and unnatural narrator?

How will we know,

when we’ve gone too far?

A Most Extraordinary Garden

Miami, 2019

What if Miami were a garden,

one that required nurture

cultivation and care?

Where worry drains the mind

like weeds

and cripples a city

overcome with people

and water.

Listen for the future

for we are the authors of its cause.

When crisis is comprised

of human consequence

we must dare to dream

that we are more than sum of our parts,

that we are more

then the circumstance

we have inherited.

In this way we may

begin again,

to live out the glory

of our most extraordinary

garden.