small songs I sing
to join
my voice to other voices
hidden in the grass

Saturday, January 31, 2015


music lesson—
the caged bird 
beating inside me
learns how to sing
her own sky into being

~Ribbons 10:3, Fall 2014

I wait
without wings
in the empty chapel . . .
organ music lifts me
by the marrow of my bones

~A Hundred Gourds 4:1, Dec. 2014

Saturday, January 24, 2015


knees to chin
on a bike too small
I pedal
toward crossroads
shrouded in mist

~Bamboo Hut 1: 2, Jan. 2014

pointing this way, that way
toward Unity
and Union Grove . . .
seeds scatter in the wind

~Bright Stars 6, Fall 2014

Saturday, January 17, 2015


the four arms 
of the Milky Way
spiraling around us
the four hands of Shiva
fingerprint the stars

~All the Shells: Tanka Society of America 
Members' Anthology 2014

I need a name
for the wainwright of stars
who unfurls 
each fiddlehead to fern . . .
worthless, this cloistered tongue

~cattails Jan. 2015

Sunday, January 11, 2015


the gray fox
slipping like mist
through a shimmer
of moonlight 
my shadow

through deep time. . .
inside the wing of a bat
the bones of my hand 
take flight

Saturday, January 3, 2015

A Wayfarer

leaves drift 
across my path 
this autumn 
I lose the end 
of Ariadne’s thread

under my cloak of dreams
I journey
toward a glass mountain. . . 
a sparrow hops in the dust

for the heartbeat
of mystery—
a dry leaf crinkles
in the hollow of my hand

a map 
etched in frost
on a sycamore leaf
at the toe of my boot
. . .  you are here

on the tip 
of my tongue
the myriad names 
of god

~Bright Stars 6: An Organic Tanka Anthology, Autumn 2014