St. Teresa Puts in a Skylight
Street Person, Portland, Maine: circa 1965
Poetry is like prayer in that it is most effective in solitude and in the times of
solitude as, for example, in the earliest morning. Wallace Stevens
You can imagine why they call this ship a tender
Very soon now the light shall die.
I didn’t follow the holy man around
I have been in the House of Yahweh.
In the barnyard of my bone Let the animals kneel down...
---in memory of Denise Levertov, 1923-1997
I accept the cardinal that comes to the tree...
Carver at market speaks to a tourist
The sky shifts pinks of light through louvered fingers...
It rained and rained.
I am a needle sewing...