Greening Again

We’re greening all over again
bulbs, birds unceasing, even dogs
having turned the corner on winter, with the trees

I round the trail’s corner, begin
to notice birds in the four-eyed tree, frogs
singing greenly in the reeds, all nature plain-meaning:

bend your head to the tree-sigh of still north-rooted breeze
catch the corner, quick, of golden sun in all this greening


My first-ever san san for NaPoWriMo Day 14.

How Poetry Saved My Life (in London)

in cars, airports, airplanes, trains

this tote carried me and my goods

in iambic pentameter, Wallace Stevens,

I wish that I might be a thinking stone


(to admire far-below surroundings

of fair-furrowed hay-gold,

corn-green fields: why

you prospered, why

Saxons wanted you)


holiday humanity at the wax-works

shouting and camera-flash but here

in his corner, Dickens, and yea verily

Shakespeare, standing


then after the kerfuffle over Baker Street

while hungry, footsore we rattled

in the packed train all subterranean

children on our way to who knows

where or why: a song of apple boughs

pasted on the wall, Dylan Thomas,

and I was green and carefree

under the new made clouds

and happy as the heart was long