Time is a stream
you step into once
you run out of other options

A house is a metaphor
for what you want
to take place inside the house

Things happen
the way they always have
then they happen again

Some are missing
you remember them more
when you miss them

Mouth makes language
out of another
mouth’s reaction to it

Return is incomplete
when you begin
where you started

That Story

These born into stories 
never far from what made us

reckoning into the past
ellipsis of known forgottens

press record before slip
separates difference in time

within what adjusts us
to this intermittent present

between now and the next
now you take into account

which story ends you begin


Back in the old neighborhood 
wondering how everyone is doing
especially myself

the light hitting the house
seems brighter than before
can’t remember the last time

I drove down this street
except the feeling of
knowing who I was

that part of me belongs here
the part I carry with me
part of the way back home

Growing Teeth

If nothing else
let this day be remembered
for upon the uncomfortable
fitfulness of nap time
interrupted by cries
irresistible to human ears
attached to my cranium
I picked up the child
who let me become acquainted
for an hour or so with
the personification of sleep
which I in my infinite wisdom
accepted as did the cat
who insisted on joining us on my lap

After an Evening of Watching Genealogical Programs on PBS

Delayed recognition
for decades if not centuries

to know someone you know
possesses the only story

and can answer questions
the answers don’t even know

how likely it is to have
the chances for long life

in the cantor of a song
who knows where the words

came from or where they go
in the hearing a silence

that may happen again
the last living memory

was once yet to be born
and laughs at the thought

of remembering many things
many many things

Haiku Day

Deciphering words
out of the babble we hear
what we think are words

Reacting to trees
how they appear different
the more you see them

Perhaps like they did
the first time we walked with her
could she remember

Face of practiced awe
who are we to interrupt
the pace of rapture

With our semantics
is she responding or just

Language we provide
shaping the eternity
from which she springs forth

To fit a design
we can barely respond to
with a halting yes

Nap State of Mind

Starting to think the child
is already picking up
my worst habits

like staying up too late
for no real reason
except in this case

it’s the middle of the day
and a nap that need not
be abandoned yet

that will no doubt affect
the rest of the day such
as it is with little rest

until eyes so tired
they won’t let sleep arrive
might need to stay up

a little later to describe it

Attachment Theory

Begins with maybe crying
for a minute when not
so long ago sleep came
without a second thought

Occasionally crawling
into distracted arms
for the presence lacking

I’ve not been tracking
each independent milestone
except when the obvious
becomes apparent

The truth is each child
will let you know
their own mind
when they want to

They somehow know
saying goodbye
is the habit of a lifetime
and can wait

a little longer


It’s been so long since
we’ve been able to say
we expect you to
outlive us all someday

when I recognize
the mischievous smile
in my child’s face
I know you have

probably a falsehood
to say you won’t meet
have any of us not
met the mystery?

in the next century
we may find ourselves
outliving what we
could not see

easy to say it goes by
in the blink of an eye
if I close them
it seems much longer

one glance at the stars
a prayer perhaps
you are looking back at us
eternity collapsed

there you are in the photograph
great grandchildren laugh