Wednesday, October 29, 2008


for Hector Combattente, Date of death: 10/27/1995

October's chill-
from the old man's window
leaves dying slowly,
a beginning race with time
and the weather

all night the rain
and the knocking wind-
he speaks in whispers
and waits for a morning
that doesn't come

clearing skies-
the dull thud of damp earth
on the coffin;
how can a hundred and six years
be confined in so small a space

Ribbons, winter 2006/2007

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Our House

We live in the country now, a ranch house with large windows. Chores become lighter when glancing out these windows. The shape and solidity of trees, the swift motion of birds, the dizzying chase of squirrels. A living world beyond the glass.

Misted in fog, awash with sunshine, covered with snow or tinted with silvery blue moonlight. A different mood daily, sometimes hourly.

Gradually we begin to fit into our new home, adjusting the fit to where it is most comfortable. Like a garment, we have let out and taken in our expectations. Paint and wallpaper, hammer and nails, power saw and rakes. We have adapted the house to our style and our style to the house.

the morning sun –
polished old furniture
takes on a new look

The Country and Abroad, Sept. 2007

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Autumn Haiku

piles of dried leaves
hardened by last night's frost
more crunch in my step
Stylus Poetry Journal, April 2006

late autumn...
driving toward the sunset
all the way home
The Heron's Nest, May 2002

scurrying through rows
potato diggers
watching clouds
Modern Haiku, 1972

Tuesday, October 7, 2008

Nantucket in October

a mid-week sail
solitary in the bay
one buoy light blinking

squabbling seagulls
on an empty stretch of beach
the white sand

clattering footsteps
over cobblestone streeets
darkness comes early

end of season
brown leaves fill the doorways-
a shop bell jangles

the six o'clock ferry
huddled over hot coffee
waiting for sunrise

heading home
white caps against the bow-
mist turning to rain
Green's Magazine, Autumn 2003

Wednesday, October 1, 2008


A few tanka

the sun still warm
so late in autumn
a gentle slowing down
nothing to do but give in
Modern English Tanka, Summer 2007

newly married-
a Friday night date
at the Laundromat
we hold hands
between cycles
Moonset, Nov. 2007

hydrangea bush-
one blue blossom
amidst the pink;
how strange it is
to be so alone
Red Lights, Jan. 2008