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Poems

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  • The Wayfarer

    When the wings of the triptych are open as

  • The White Door and White Green Red Tree Stone Sun

    I made an offering and left the shore.

  • THE WHITE ROAD

    I am walking along the dazzling ruin of a road I knew

  • The Widow at Point Reyes and Broncoscopy

    She sat for an hour watching 10,000 tiny silver fish

  • The Willows in Winter in the Boston Public Garden

    In the sun’s white

  • The Wind Cried Mary  

    In 1967 when Hendrix coaxed, Are you experienced?

  • The Window & On Turning 79

    I check the den window a few times each day

  • The Window Light, The Dead Boy Isn’t Dad & The Window Light Again

    Painting around the windowsill

  • The World As Sound

    I didn’t speak until I was five

  • The World Provides

    Someone somewhere must always be

  • The Worm

    The sun: a worm with a spring withy in its jaws.

  • The Year We Went Without Retiring

    The light was so entitled and the air so inflated and full of itself, you might have thought we were in Florida or back at the Tri-City Drive-in off 495 where we would watch adult flicks and you would get sick in the tall grass from the lack of kissing or a soundtrack.