invisible delicacies
in the wind
birds at their beach business
what one word
did the first native to see
say to the first white sail
you name that surf sound
I tried
no words here
he left me a small red Finnish dictionary
itsemurha underlined
some going away present
Redwoods at road side pull off
stopping for these good friends
let’s spend the night here
Marmot Lake
I come eye level
to a thousand rain ripples
tracks in the clouds
martens, raccoons, gulls
cougar hiding in a cumulus
rains begin
we run out of daylight early
fall has fallen on us
there is no other way to write
please
thank you
I am sorry
mother is perfectly tiny
wears Buster Browns from the children’s department
will walk you right into the ground
who will eat this carp
pulled flopping from the muddy Wabash
caught on a dirty brown dough ball
he has been
my best oldest brother
going on 81 years today
At Kingsley Dam
midnight horizontal lightning sizzles
native Sioux finger pointing
do you see them down there
do you hear them whispering
at smokeless tipis
hiding out in the badland arroyos
waiting for annihilation
marionettes hang pretending to be clouds
in the Wyoming Van Gogh blue sky
words are blown away here
down every deadend road
demanding alcohol
drunk into Hospice
Soft edged city fog
eases down the street
you can hear it coming
straddling state line
gas pump in Utah
biscuits and gravy in Nevada
mother
what a great gift
her curiosity
on the beach at Seabeck
tide comes lapping in
pushing back our reading chairs
Lion’s Park maples
blushing red
you know what that means
random spring tulips
line Frog Lane
early February volunteers
wildflowers
in Manette parking strip
little girls pick their first bouquets
Bloedel on a Sunday tour
poems line the walkaways
sassy azaleas talk back
Elandan Gardens
come face to face
with a one thousand year-old spruce
gray rope clothes line
grandmother’s mouth full of clothes pins
I step on a bee
sitting on the roadside ditch bank
faces shiny with fresh watermelon
spitting the seeds
running barefoot
chasing night fire flies
making flashlights in mason jars
worried about the air raid warden
crowded around the radio dial light
blackout curtains drawn
in my box of final savers
my ration book
two sugars remain
Compo Beach on the beach
Aunt Betty teases me with fiddler crabs
she is my best friend forever
hot Indiana morning
grandmother wrings the laundry
sheets crack
Timberline parking lot
wind a gale of biting snow
no climb to Pearly Gates today
On our last flight from the east
we flew over the entire Oregon Trail
in just under three hours the pilot said
tight lipped
pear tree buds
blossomed last night
watching for eagles
saw two
watching us
Bill Hoke many years
