What happened to the art of writing
long letters to a friend,
a lover waiting anxiously,
a beginning and an end?
...
Oh, I'm aware. Too aware.
I wore my bright colors, my orange and golds,
the big yellow hat, closet greens unrolled.
...
'Unworthy of this wilderness,
a majesty too great for kings,
lakes and rivers, wide as dreams,
moving faster than my words;
...
Life is not random
when each fall
takes us higher
than ourselves.
...
Bless the child who's blessed me,
bless the child who's cursed me,
and stolen from and hurt me.
...
The trees kissed each other
Good Morning
as I peeked around the fog
and up their
...
Enchantment's hour, soon elves at play with fairies full of grace,
in gowns of pink and silver, shimmering satin and fine lace.
These flutter ‘round the baby, Princess Emmy Rose asleep,
to tickle toes and pinch her nose until the wee one squeaks.
...
The big owl died because of crows.
They caught him sleeping, chased him away,
that lazy famous afternoon
half a century ago.
...
Here in this place now that you're gone
we find your hope and hear your song
inscribed and nourished by this land,
its lake and forest, more the man
...
(to the tune of Home, Home on the Range)
Oh, show me that hole
where the Walleye extols
...