The Poet Transmuted

—after Aesop


Crow over

Me with worm
In air do I look

Like a fox.

Unraveling the Riddle

Knock-knock.

Poetry Lesson

And yet, we know something of bitterness—
This draining out of love in syllables
Teaches us, among other things, silence
And how to talk our way around it.

(My first published poem, Poetry Northwest, Winter 1970-71--going on forty and still teaching.)

One More Inspiring Sunset Poem

Ho-hum. How many more
Like this one have yet to be written

On the horizon?
Ho-hum.

On Approaching a Shortcut through a Field of Nettles

Rush,
Rash.