A season of storms
The sky wears fatigues tonight. A girl with fingers in her ears feels the earth shake. Fires are burning.
Thunder & crow
Grey clouds shaking out their bed clothes and one insistent crow squawks getinoutofit.
Courting Flute
Three hundred children hang on an intake of breath. White Bear sings to her. CLICK TO LISTEN TO RECORDING
A Season of Bees
People have kept bees for thousands of years, mostly for honey, but also to support the health of their crops, as bees are thought to be responsible for 80% of pollination worldwide. But the popularity of urban backyard beekeeping has soared around the world in recent years as city-dwellers look to raise awareness of food…
The Bagpiper
Under the city canopy, many voices reach for the sun. One rises. Up and up and up. (Print by Albrecht Dürer, www.britishmuseum.org) CLICK ON THE RECORDING TO LISTEN
Solar Music
She holds sun in her arms, beams. Called forth to music by Faraday’s child. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
You Are My Sunshine, etc.
Missing my babies from way down in Antarctica. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Canada Day
The earth is an Indian thing said Kerouac, in Mexico, full of desert and staring eyes. And it is. In the way this island has been danced upon from before time. We are all but visitors here. Feel the earth tremble. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Riley Park
No poetry today. Perhaps the sounds of my girls is poetry enough. In lieu of poetry, though, a comment: this is my 100th post on what began as a gift to an audiophile friend when our daughters were born. Ale had challenged me to use my microphone to listen deeply to the world; eight years…
Old Woman Song
The song he sang: the woman who rocks her child, and then her man. Who will rock the woman? CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Waiting for the Plane
The paint on her toes, curled against the cold, unearths me. How it begins. This winter light. She has: a dish to sell, and red soil ground into the fold of a letter. Her toes, curled against the cold. She gives me her name. Two bags that hold a spoon for bread, her smile, wide…
Helicopter
This peak that keeps drifting in and out of the clouds. Each flake that lands stays, layers into history. Freeze, thaw. The constant motion of things. Wilderness, and this life we carve into it. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Thunder calls me from the dishes
Thunder calls me from the dishes last night’s arguments dissolving in bubbles to the door. Open it: the world comes alive. Silver sky, wet earth, the great pause as the heat breaks. The leaves fidget, the dog fidgets, the baby fidgets in sleep. Then a ripple across the sky. I close my eyes and…
Street corner violin
In flip flops and jeans he calls up the pathos of a rainy Sunday afternoon, cars passing, the river muttering. He is thin as a scarecrow and missing teeth. At his feet, a complicated score that lies, staring up at the sky. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Dawn chorus with chives
Pad out to the fire, listen for birds and the distant sound of trains, of traffic like water. Pause. Delight in the chives and other things hard to kill. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Bubble wrap
They are mad syncopation, feet hungry for every last bubble. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Train passing
The train passes and I kneel to touch the creaking iron. Expecting heat, expecting flattened pennies, my hand — rests. There are only locusts left, and the cool shushing of the river. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Two Girls on a Bridge
They scream — one clung to the side as the other boldly goes, ferocious feet and a creaking gangplank foundered on this prairie soil. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Dogsled
The dogs riot, drunk with snow. CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING
Baby laughing
(No poetry needed) CLICK TO LISTEN TO THE RECORDING