Tree Heliotrope

   i heard it said
tree heliotrope
   is throughout
much of oceana.

   so many places
   i have not been!

      toxic, they say,
in large amounts.
   nobody would
      eat that much.

crooked branches.
   who could build
with such tangled 
      wood as that?

but trees like this
   are fine, so fine,
for creating shade
beneath a south
      pacific sun.

Coral Sand, Black Lava

white coral sand, 
      wet black lava,
   tropical seas, 
the summery sky!

      every day seems
a wonderful dream.

we eat shave ice
   but not much
      ice cream.

      a secret beach
seems such an idea!
down a private road,
(we asked the young
      guard for access, 
      quickly granted)
we were on our way.

   a narrow road on 
      white coral sand,
a gift from the bowels
   of many parrotfish,
   and we are grateful.

      a wonderful
uncrowded beach.
      we carried on,

to welcome shade 
      beneath hot
      sunny skies.

   in black and white,
feeling, no surprise.

Downstream View

from high above,
      i look at
rushing waters,

   spilling over
      wet and 
rounded rocks.

our lives too
rush, spilling
   over rocky

   where we
might smash,

breaking ribs
   and more,

   struggling in
   wild torrents,
gasping for air.

from cliffside

   it all looks
and peaceful.

but sometimes
   in rushing
      we learn

      beaten by
wild currents,
we sometimes

Broken Bamboo 2018a

broken bamboo 
tops lie in a heap 
      on top of
fibrous roots,

   a wind-storm
   smashed that
bamboo grove.

we find the scene
   exotic and a
      little alien;
      this is not
our world.

years and miles 
   pass by too
   quickly we
      will learn;

a jungle cataract
      falls from a 
   towering cliff,

      its source
a mystery we'll
   never solve.

   this bamboo
doesn't care;

it grows again beside
      sweet lacey ferns,
a warm wind blows.

   we came so far
      and see (that's
how it goes).

      rain drops from
sudden clouds above 

as we drink it in,
   the gods are
      making love.

Badlands no.12

Badlands no.12

the rains came down
for millions of years

washing away rock
   (was sand, packed
      hard and turned
to sandstone.)

memories stir
and i want to
      return to a
place and time
a little beyond
      my grasp.

      beside me, 
   a small dog 
sleeps in peace.

envy stirs, as i
      fight sleep
   like a tired

rock never sleeps, 
   time's rivers
   wash it slowly
      to the sea,

one grain
      of sand
at a time.

Valentine’s Day

   a special day, for 
celebrating love...
but this far north,
it's icy cold outside.

   february is 
about time 
   to be tired 
      of winter

      we wait 
for springtime.

      ice and snow
becomes tiresome.
   walking on ice
   is dangerous.

      we want our
   freedom back,
to follow our toes,
wherever they
      want to go.

valentine's day

   a special day, for 
   celebrating love...
but this far north,
it's icy cold outside.