Bass wit

I was witty when I was a boy.
I played vile verses
with my violin mouth.
Then I in grew into a cello
And the vileness smoothed into
Mellifluous baritone gravity,
And I studied and studied and practiced and practiced until
I grew truly bass.

A found poem:

I have always enjoyed being alone:
to wake in the night
free to think
in the dark,
or solitary walks
without the need to accommodate
companions, assured
of a friendly conversation.

Landlocked


If I were the captain
I wish I could be,
I would sail all the seas
from farthest away
to closest to me,
spars sodden and creaking
in tempers of tempests,
or straight still and silent
with dry
slack
sheets.

I would know all the oceans
their ships and their sails
their mariners’ secrets
of masterful knots

With sole undulations
of decks over waves
no trip but a voyage
no song but a shanty
and hope as my helm
escape as my star
I would sail from today
and never too far

trip in the forest

falling into bark
elmskin or oak
earth edge rising
meets me or tree
texture of treetoegrip
root without earth
branch without sky
treeskin and earthstone
of eyebrow and
feetform earthair