All the colors shared that
we couldn’t leave behind,
O summertime,
how you fill my mind



I Begin In Earnest

PHOTO Forest path small

The sun shines on
the tides of meadows,
tall grasses – waves
of sea,
I find myself alone today,
but you know, that’s not
my whiskey.

Wild roses meditate
in pink, a canary in
some blue fine,
I cannot see where
goes the path, but
let it be my wine.

These trees in flocks
that give me pause,
one thousand pairs
of two,
My hand aflutter,
my thoughts in flight,
I begin in earnest to
write you.

But I have no pen,
my paper bark,
stars come into view,
still eventide walks alone,
take from this, I love you.



When The World Was Green Blue

White wine

I believe we’ve met
before we were born,

When the world was
green blue and had
never been worn.

I welcome him in,
invite him to dine,

A bottle is breathing
of Bully Hill wine.

I pour him a glass,
I ask, “Did you know…”

He interrupts and says,
“Two lifetimes ago.”

Photo: La Gazzetta Italiana