Friday, April 18, 1980

MORNING COMES IN AWASH


Morning comes in awash
with sunlight the color of apples.
A bluejay banging away at the window
with a need to build her nest,
searches for a place to call home,
not remembering from day to day
that the window is still there.

Still, she comes
trying to find a way in.
Even if she could,
her chances are no better
today than yesterday.
Her instinct surely guides her,
and when she finds the right spot,
she'll know her need, while I
continue to stare out this window,
making no move at all.

4/18/1980
rev. 1984
Forestville

WOMAN IS OF THE OCEAN


WOMAN IS OF THE OCEAN

As the earth unleashes its hold upon spring,
bees brush morning with their wings.
The eye gathers in clouds of apple blossoms.
Is it a woman's desire to wait upon the land
with the sound of the ocean filling her
leaving only the fish to nourish her
during the long drought?
The whale returns to the north, toward home;
she returns south to mate, to give birth
and to feed upon the krill.
There is where home lies.
Man talks in symbols.
He spreads sperm in damp wings.
The labial fire burns and dies.
Veins carry in the eye of the storm
and the coastline of the mouth 
is treacherous.

4/18/1980
rev 7/1980


Saturday, April 12, 1980

BOARDED WINDOWS


Boarded windows
The white eyes of the blind
The migration of sand dunes, grain by grain.
A violation of the land as it tilts
downward into the sea.

4/12/1980
Navarro Ridge
Poetry reading at Doug’s loft, Bill Bradd, Leonard Cirino, River, Sharon Doubiago, Feather, me.