floating on his back
my son in river
water, glistening hair touches
sunlight, azure sky, cloud
reflection, i imagine him
alive forever, held in
nature’s undulating womb
Tag: Peace
In the Stream
Letter from Doris Grumbach
Doris Grumbach is perhaps my favorite memoirist of all time. She wrote me this letter when I was living in Palo Alto. She will be 102 years old this July 12th.
Dog Wisdom
some nights it
seems that our
dog ingrid has
it all figured
out, she understands
love and closeness
when to drink
water, and when
to sleep, she
doesn’t stay up
late on her
phone wondering about
the world, no
she lives in
minutes of joy
running, licking, waiting
for someone to
drop food on
the floor, this
has been said
before, but always
good to remember
that we are
animals too, and
it can all
be much more
simple, if we
let it be
Smoky Mountain Trail
Have You Noticed?
Have you noticed that the earth
is always turning, that shadows
really do move across grass,
stone, everything?
Have you noticed that nature’s
wind touches all of life,
caterpillars, green ivy leaves,
chipmunks, tree trunks?
Have you noticed the white
cloud canvas, sparrow silhouette
in springtime sky, chirping
and flirting with the sun?
Have you noticed the bees
with their stingers, moving
from flower to flower, not
thinking about us at all?
Have you noticed how fast
we move through our days,
from screen to screen, with
all the rest unseen?
Lakeshore
A 3rd drawing by my Grandmother. I’m guessing this is Lake Ontario in the early 1930’s.
Our Wisdom
I found this poem in my Grandmother’s scrapbook, I believe it is from the late 1920’s.
Sleeping Outside In College
bunk beds stacked, thin mattresses
on steel spring decks, this cloistered
container, dorm room coffin where
20-year old boy-men play loud music
ska, reggae, rap, sometimes Phish
trapped inside institutional time
grab sleeping bag, late April night
up fir tree trail to quiet hilltop where
moths float over darken meadow
endless bedroom, alone for slumber
Daniel W. Polk 