Three poems. (Yes, written my me.)

Utah
for my father-

Canyonside, a coyote peers edgewise.
The best place to turn by evening
Is east, where red rocks
Smoulder at a sign of night.
At your back you may find
The last of this sunset
Petroglyphic,
Wrought in dust and rimrock.
By firelight, in quiet,
The stars make their way
Through the blue of the dark.

---

Small Passing

Daylight left silver tracks in the snow-
Dreaming in circles, wheeling outside;
Even the littlest ones will go.

---

Zen

Your voice startles me.
By evening I have
Fallen footfirst out of the world.

Watching your wrist move
Steadfastly, compelling,
I am altered, and translated again.

It was Zen, you said,
As you caressed the page
With coils of entwining ink.

In awe,
I touched my hand to yours.

I never asked for you.
You waited in the other room
Drawing circles until I wandered in.

Once ago, we sipped tea
And quietly wondered; once ago
I painted this for you.

I don't generally like to post works-in-progress, but here's a little sumpin-sumpin.

There will be more! later.

Magical Trevor and the Breadfish.
'Nuff said.

Wow, look. more art.

Sono la Villa Donna.

Sybil

The answers to all of life's great questions can be found here, via google. Should have expected as much.

Ahh, and some visual poetry, GIS style.

Been drawin' stuff, that's about it......