December 6

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monks in tuscany
sing praisesongs for nativity
o holy sounds ring

this christmas will be
full and empty missing them
who holy made me

Hope, Albert, parents
beyond praise now, beyond pain
thank you for your love

i told you so
how your leaving would break me
why couldn't you last?

opening the door
cold shoves past, entering
with the roaming cat

the book of carols
won't stay open, too much
for me to play

move the garbage out
light incense, brew clove tea,
winter Saturday

tall milkweed stalks stand
white fluff clings to ruptured pods
wild untidy mess

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much as i love paper
all that lasts is stone
carve my poems there

israels past reign
mythic fragments carved in stone
biblical proof

sidewalks glisten
where snow under sun melted
but not on my ramps

the cat wants to go
outside white snow dirties grass
he rushes back in



hope walks a tightrope
recycled clintonites rise
please make us anew