Don't Ask: Questions Of Indirection From The Boondocks Of The Southern Peloponnese

Where but where you are
Now could you have been

Happier? Here where
The last thing you need

To ask is if you are.

In The Dark No More

Your eyes are getting very heavy— 
Soon the lids will shut tight 

And you will enter a space full 
Of light unlike the one you were in for 

So long before—that one had a door, 
This one has one too but 

It’s never been opened before. 

Herakleitos On Solid Upright Citizens Of The World

Who says even sleeping 
Men are doing the world’s 
Business and helping it 
On its way though he also adroitly 
Avoids mentioning they should not be 
As sleepwalkers perambulating out there 
In broad daylight trying to show us 
The right and true way. 

Where We Hope To Be Some Future Fall

A burnished bronze jasmine 
Leaf twirling on the end 
Of a spider’s thin silver thread, 

In the slanting sunny late afternoon 
Air, soon to join its brothers and sisters 
In the perennial pied carpet of death 

And rejuvenation,
Our good mother 
Earth always there. 

Pot Of Gold

Before it all evaporates, let us take in 
Our good fortune, this morning’s 

Double rainbow in which two 
Wild doves perch 

On a telephone line, cooing 
Of the long-awaited approaching 

Change of weather.