Monday, March 31, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 31 



All the crows in Kansas
settled onto White Cloud Cemetery

as if to warm our hearts.



Sunday, March 30, 2014

from THE OLD POET SAYS 



“One of
God's

fingers
invites

you in;
the other,

the middle,
does not.”

*

“This is all
rehearsal.

What are you
waiting for?”

*

“Everything
I could tell you
about poetry

is there,
in the poems.”



Saturday, March 29, 2014

from THE OLD POET SAYS 



“Not
haiku

but what
haiku

can be.”

*

"Let go
the earth

when the earth
lets go."

*

“A few old tricks -
just to show us

you can do them.”



Friday, March 28, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 28 



Certainty, un-
certainty in the

endless distance.



Thursday, March 27, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 27 



Windmill,
a sign there's

something here
in this

emptiness.



Wednesday, March 26, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 26 



Death, winged with
grey feathers,
turning the wind,

looking for
what comes next.



Tuesday, March 25, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 25 



Wind compass,
hawk,

harbinger
of the world's

undoing,
turning

as the day
turns.



Monday, March 24, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 24 



Racing from
sundown, as if

the evening isn't
headed west.



Sunday, March 23, 2014

from THE OLD POET SAYS 



“All day
the words

pursue
me and

sometimes
even

into
the night.”

*

“Like a dog
that won't let

go its bone,
the poet.”

*

“Not
the word,

the thing
that sings.”



Saturday, March 22, 2014

from THE OLD POET SAYS 



“Poetry
doesn't need you

to be smart.
It needs you

to listen,
to pay attention.”

*

“Silly poet!
That hawk

works much
too hard to

inhabit
your poem.”

*

“Not the logic
of logic,

the logic
of poetry.

Not promises -
deliverance.”



Friday, March 21, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 21 



Mo-
ment's

hesi-
tation -

coyote
dead

along the road.



Thursday, March 20, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 20 



Nothing
drabber than

this dull,
rolling land,

except death
dropping onto it

with dun-colored
wings.



Wednesday, March 19, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 19 



Clouds crowding darkness.
Storm wanting to break.

There is no going
and coming back.



Tuesday, March 18, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 18 



Chunk
of afternoon

moon
above the hunks

of broken
rock - the bad

lands.



Monday, March 17, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 17 



These hills,
like grasses

running before
the wind.



Sunday, March 16, 2014

from THE OLD POET SAYS 



“Pray for nothing
and be surprised.”

*

"Writing
in the dark,

sometimes
I do my

best work.”

*

“Under-
stand?

If you
say you

do, you're
lying.”



Saturday, March 15, 2014

from THE OLD POET SAYS 



“Broken lines
and static,

these partial
transmissions

I can't make
sense of.”

*

“Sometimes,
yes,

it is only
this

with nothing
more

to say about
it.”

*

"When what you need
is poetry

even a short one
will do."



Friday, March 14, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 14 



Edge
of the hard

lands, the bad
lands, torn

earth and gullies
going on

as if forever.



Thursday, March 13, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 13 



Lumpen clay
in the grass, or

a mule deer,
flicking an ear?



Wednesday, March 12, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 12 



Nothing out here
but short grass.

Why does the radio
play hip-hop?



Tuesday, March 11, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 11 



Rivers flow
where water-sense

tells them to.



Monday, March 10, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 10 



The wind
running flat out

into the dizzying
distance.



Sunday, March 09, 2014

from THE OLD POET SAYS 



“What
we promise

keeps like ice,
us poets.”

*

“I make my choice -
the world turns

the other way.”

*

You might lay claim
to someone's gift,

but it's not yours,
you know it's not.”



Saturday, March 08, 2014

from THE OLD POET SAYS 



“Sometimes
the beat.

Sometimes
the turn,

Sometimes
the sun

against
your arm.”

*

“Almost useless,
the promises

of a poet.”

*

“Poetry,
blindness

of the pig
in mud.”



Friday, March 07, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 7 



Empty, even before
I reach South Dakota.



Thursday, March 06, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 6 



Where the tree was,
the wind goes begging.



Wednesday, March 05, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 5 



Red-tail spreads its
wings half as
wide as the sky,

lifts the wind,
lifts the day,

lifts the blue
dome away.



Tuesday, March 04, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 4 



Hawks, wind, snow
on the rolling
hillsides. I cannot
help but push on.



Monday, March 03, 2014

LINES FOR MARCH 3 



Hawk settled
on its perch.

Not the pole.
Not the wind.

Something
between,

beyond.



Sunday, March 02, 2014

from THE OLD POET SAYS 



“Ah, the poem – like
tasting the pear.”

*

“As if
I know

what I
sound like -

they say
it sounds

like me.”

*

“Even if
you could sell
your poems

it would still
be a sin.”



Saturday, March 01, 2014

from THE OLD POET SAYS 



“All my life
I practice.

For what?
For the art

of it.”

*

“If could
a word

disappear,
then only

thing.”

*

"Is there
anything
else to

break

once you've
broken
your lines?"



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