showy in the yard

matilija poppy

can’t abide a vase

September 12, 2021

porch light flicks on

abrupt crash in the raised beds

bolting, a deer

September 7, 2021

the west wind rises

to sweep the grassy hillsides

surface of the pond

April 24, 2021

Helen Putnam Park

yesterday’s rain leaves

behind a sky full of stars

the unfallen

February 12, 2021

slow enough, this creek

for the raindrops to leave rings

as small insects might

January 28, 2021

casket in this breeze

refreshing the arroyo

above cactus slopes

January 18, 2021

memorial service for Larry Clement

Oceanside

Santa Ana blows

later than ever this year

cold, dry, alien

January 18, 2021

Torrey Mesa, San Diego

what color are you,

eucalyptus leaf? no one

who’s honest can say

January 11, 2021

a patch of sunlight

the cat dozes by my head

full of ticking clocks

January 11, 2021

birds in the rafters

rat bait along the baseboards

loading bales of hay

January 9, 2021

Toby’s Feed Barn

Point Reyes Station

advancing shadows

in the grass beyond the sand

a first frog croaking

January 9, 2021

Chicken Ranch Beach

Inverness

with such precision

calibrated by the tides

sand dollars’ flatness

January 1, 2021

Drake’s Beach

elephant seals bask

west-facing cliffs shining bright

shed clay in tumbles

January 1, 2021

Drake’s Beach

winter’s shortest day

low hum: bees ply the citrus

clicking: hummingbird

December 21, 2020

raindrops squat, placid

on a eucalyptus leaf

finches, a slim branch

December 12, 2020

rain gutter unclogged

torrent falls on Buddha’s head

his smile now glistens

December 12, 2020

attending the pig

sparrows drop to the wallow

past fir trees for sale

December 5, 2020

Who awakens first?

Overseeing the household

I’m the one who knows

December 3, 2020

after Kongming

filmy plastic sheath

between my dry cleaning and

a world months away

November 8, 2020

purple-tinged with green

hummingbird, eucalyptus

darting, rustling, one

November 8, 2020

shing-shing the flagpole

casting my vote with the dead

wind-whipped legion

November 2, 2020

cat piss and fennel

en route to the ballot box

this town, this nation

November 2, 2020

her binoculars

Mare Serenitatis

first observation

November 1, 2020

sporting butterfly

falling leaf, three thousand years

joined by a poem

November 12, 2020

walled in by words

cooking smells below senses

tunnel free from thought

November 1, 2020

streets paved by the moon

stars, mist find their routes through town

a rose-ringed halo

October 30, 2020

no crazy band names

the Phoenix’s black marquee—

what “live” used to be

October 29, 2020

bays best for climbing

broad-based ancient, many crooks

enfold my daughters

October 25, 2020

persimmons ripen

distinctive gradient pink

pinchable newborns

October 24, 2020

empty clay basins

awaiting rain in the mist

awaiting music

October 24, 2020

means something, I guess

Mercury in retrograde

I simply feel bad

October 20, 2020

plant light in the east

to harvest at dusk as I

look back on the day

October 19, 2020

At Lisa’s and Megan’s house

bluejays giving voice

such a crisp, fallow season

even the crows yield

October 16, 2020

an invitation

to sit out the pandemic

on these granite steps

October 17 2020

Old Petaluma Library

pocketed acorn

sharpest point I know not made

of metal or stone

October 11, 2020

when the wind arrives

the shadows take to the walls

the sun brokers peace

September 23, 2020

after three week’s wait

I raise the sash this evening

such grace this cool air

September 16, 2020

The smoke from the fires has finally abated

arrival of fall:

flies move in slower circles

almost peacefully

September 19, 2020

fly on my ankle

I don’t notice when you land

feel when you take off

September 19, 2020

pale blue tridents

eucalyptus flower, I

never consider you

September 19, 2020

cast ashore awake

at various hours, I seek

the clock for comfort

September 16, 2020

grape leaves rust while

lemon blossoms don’t yet bud—

the side of the house

September 12, 2020

seagulls apprehend

terns on the move probe the sand—

two forms of patience

September 13, 2020

Dillon Beach

when she rubs my back

her old hands grow firm again

with unforgetting

September 13, 2020

I can’t reconcile

the rack of scenic postcards

with the pall outside

September 10, 2020

Copperfield’s Books, Petaluma

you say no reason

when already established

what the reason is

September 8, 2020

crimson sun casts light

into an overcast dawn—

midday approaches

at midday, still dawn

the sun’s wan crimson lightcast

bathes birds in pity

this planet is mine?

into a stillborn dawn still

the crimson sun casts

September 8, 2020

California wildfires raging unchecked

a fall down the stairs

my wife rolls a joint, brings ice

urges me to sit

September 6, 2020

two compassion tests

drift in through the kitchen door

daring me to fail

September 5, 2020

journal, no, timesheet—

no time to finish it then

now before things fade

September 5, 2020

consciously set down:

a world of simple gestures

humble, beautiful

September 4, 2020

a stalk of fennel

in the bathroom, eyes closed

I soak in summer fields

September 1, 2020

five barnacle shells

attached to the mussel

cast up by the tide

August 30, 2020

lying on my side

the good leg is a pillow

for the injured one

August 30, 2020

with the house sealed shut

the towels quickly sour—

but don’t smell of smoke

August 29, 2020

sand in the bathtub

my daughters back from the beach

rinse, but not quite yet

August 29, 2020

closed office window

nothing moves, nothing ages

and I am long dead

August 28, 2020

my farts aren’t human

what order gives rise to them?

some beast’s or demon’s

August 25, 2020

dusk fools me to think

the day’s acrid smoke

is somehow less

August 25, 2020

egrets in twos, threes

follow the river’s course north

a wingbeat or two

August 24, 2020

Petaluma River

when a skirting leaf

along the periphery

can pass for a rat

August 24, 2020

headlights through Marin

yet the cyclists keep riding

smoky dusk at noon

August 21, 2020

not a stray hair

or basal cell scab, my head

glistening at last

August 9, 2020

snow on the mountain

talcum powder drifting down

at the edge of touch

August 9, 2020

she shares a poem

of a shadow waiting for

a form to claim it

August 9, 2020

the black wasp banging

against the pane has no idea

I want to save it

August 16, 2020

rose sky, drifting ash

children play indoors today—

shelter, shelter, shelt-

August 19, 2020

Petaluma

the artichoke seeds

drift to the back yard, children

chasing fairies

August 14, 2020

even in summer

Point Reyes’ weathered wood sidings

betray the winter

August 14, 2020

my firm, clumsy grasp:

moth, how much dust can you lose

and still take wing?

August 13, 2020

vast pink lady bulbs

in the same place for decades

yield such slender stalks

August 13, 2020

rubbing its forelegs

as if to anticipate

food on the table

August 13, 2020

eucalyptus row

commands the ridgeline beneath

a milk glass sky

August 9, 2020

Two Rock

stretches of fennel

then Queen Anne’s lace, just as tall

along Spring Hill Road

August 9, 2020

Two Rock

the opposite shore

of the narrow bay: green clefts

of oak part the low brown hills

August 9, 2020

Inverness

Chicken Ranch Beach

you were a flower

until you took off, white moth

restless after all

August 7, 2020

Petaluma River

a faint crescent moon

marks a favorite passage

for want of a pen

August 5, 2020

crepuscular glow

from the lit palo santo

the rim of the world

August 5, 2020

thicket of fennel

taller than my head: I walk

in a pollen rain

August 2, 2020

Berkeley Marina

not seeing the key

that skittered across the floor

then stepping on it

July 29, 2020

so it’s possible

to wipe away a shadow

without knowing it

August 1, 2020

the last light of day

finds a path between buildings

to linger on trees

July 31, 2020

fog rolling eastward

dawdles over Nicasio

yet still beats me home

July 31, 2020

the cinemaplex

posters have mostly turned white

unchanging seasons

July 29, 2020

gently fluttering

as the nighttime breeze enters:

a blind’s single slat

July 28, 2020

Thank you for hearing,

reads the card. Great idea!

I send it, and hear.

July 27, 2020

to Marc Friedland

black cows, granite slabs

huddle together at noon

beneath a lone oak

July 26, 2020

Two Rock

I would kiss your foot

from under the covers, if

your soles weren’t so dirty

July 26, 2020

thick red dragonflies

not the familiar blue ones

darting around here

July 26, 2020

in one ear, secrets

in the other, betrayals

tell me, which is which?

July 21, 2020

creekbed at night

poison oak holds its distance

yet who takes this path?

July 21, 2020

summer fruits ripen

in such rapid succession!

we watch, motionless

July 21, 2020

berries mostly dry

those that remain, so compact!

late drought year harvest

July 21, 2020

Crane Creek

the new sunflower

no prouder banner hoisted

uncontested ground

July 18, 2020

my wife and daughter

still asleep in the gray light

side by side, smiling

July 18, 2020

dead apricot tree

now blossoming with finches

twigs and branches sway

July 17, 2020

rising from a nap

a few steps in one sandal

then—ah!— the other

July 17, 2020

blurred sidewalk shadow

looking down, see all the buds!

then up, withered leaves

July 17, 2020

the first morning dove

to announce itself in months

points to my absence

July 17, 2020

on waking

a garlic flower

amidst all the zinnias

catching morning sun

July 17, 2020

no wrong way to slice

a lemon but a sad way

recutting segments

July 16, 2020

Most from walking, 
many from the garden,

but yes, a fair number from the kitchen also

flight of geese descends

towards the water’s surface

one plane, another

July 16, 2020

Petaluma River

in the fig orchard

I will meet my memory

warm earth, stolen fruit

July 15, 2020

on occasion, a memory can strike with the immediacy of a direct experience

dirt becomes aware

of the porcelain I scrub

daughters come and go

July 15, 2020

in the rope hammock

swaying gently as a leaf

only this one limb

the mighty limb sighs

through the hammock’s taut rope

swaying, I listen

July 12, 2020

broken globes litter

the ground, dark with oozing juice

not one volunteer


July 5, 2020

the sink always drains—

dissolved psyllium husks, chai—

wait until morning


July 12, 2020

they search for the moon

in the window between them

tonight it obliged


July 4, 2020

midnight on New Year’s

the noise erupts, then subsides.

The Fourth of July.


July 4, 2020

in the interval

between blasts and crackles

a single cricket


July 4, 2020

the cricket’s rhythm

the firecrackers’ random bursts

Margot, hear through them!


July 4, 2020

Face at the curtain

every time the screen door creaks.

Sixty years ago.


July 2, 2020

my mother

a few untucked stars

linger in the east, casting

both light and silence


July 2, 2020

try not to contrast

this afternoon’s dry, sweet scent

with the winter damp

July 1, 2020

Petaluma


figs dried to charcoals

scattered across the rooftop

by the feasting crows

Petaluma


July 1, 2020

to keep them quiet

we give them pens and the sheets

we’ve been writing on

Petaluma


June 28, 2020

The girls clamor for attention during our afternoon poetry gathering

fine dry summer dirt

takes to the air in a cloud—

dustpan full of leaves

Petaluma


June 28, 2020

preparing the back yard for our visitors

in quarantine, poems

about the garden crowd out

all but the June wind

Petaluma


June 28, 2020

soft gray morning light

someday we’ll go together

the wind reminds me

Petaluma


June 24, 2020

coins strewn on the shelf

behind, a row of books

teacup awaits pouring

Petaluma


June 23, 2020

toys around the yard

scent of cow shit from the west

so restless, this wind

Petaluma


June 23, 2020

a constellation

arrayed among the branches

all the yellow suns

Petaluma


June 13, 2020

for Marissa on her birthday

unripe plums, dozens,

scattered across the driveway

by a gusting wind

Petaluma

June 5, 2020

a conversation

beneath the eucalyptus

at the wind’s request

Petaluma


June 5, 2020

spider sitting still

this past month, how many years

must I remain here?

June 2, 2020

Petaluma

white moths fluttering

above the stream bed to hear

how it catches rain

May 18, 2020

Petaluma

one tree catches rain

more loudly than the rest

and now, another

May 18, 2020

Petaluma

past dusk, one last bee

attends the rosemary

by choice, by chance

September 4, 2016

Petaluma