(Dear Everyone: This small collection was written up by Lake Superior in the United States while living in my canvas wall tent with a wood stove, studying, drinking tea, and listening. Where my wall tent was set up on a friend’s land was surrounded by alders and white and red pines and apple trees which lead back into public land that was full of deep ravines and rugged forest where no four-wheelers could really ever go. The spring and summer was lush with mosquitoes, tics, crane songs and the shimmering music of thousands of frogs. And at night, when the moonlight poured down, it was like being inside a living painting. It is so beautiful to live within a white canvas house, and not only the shadows but the wind, the air, the listening that can take place, moves you to the borders of humanity.)
For AmyJo
Pine Wind
In my canvas house
the color of snow
no windows
only winter’s music to light the inside of this shell
through the woven cotton panels
like a woman reading futures from a burnt scapula bone
held to a fire
With my eyes closed it seems as if the Nuthatches
with their bright bugles
have found a way into this home
Pine wind
whose breath is this
strong enough to reach me
in the center of winter?
Ever Appearing
Expression is revelation
just like bones
just like the rain of stars
You can’t love God unless you love
your own wrinkled skin and scars
like diamond birds bent by being reflected
in the ever-arriving river
The ridges of your brain are only so the birds
can dig deeper
in beneath the wind
coiled like a heating device
full of fat for softening new skin
and making old costumes like evolution
pliable like leatherwood again
singing away as the forest rises and falls
Walking Poem
George Jones Memorial Graveyard
Just after the rain
The same flowers I see winter or summer
Look as if they have grown
Missing Beneath The Moon
Moon peering down into my canvas house
not caring whether I’m waking or sleeping
but always knowing that I’m home
and a painter’s witness
like a telepathic friend
and bender of form
braving the halo
Spring Peepers are a serrated edge of a night comprehending—
In the lack of silence
I’m nowhere to be found
Dream
Last night
three people work on a story
two famous artists
and an older woman servant
surrounding a table with papers
before them
The servant points to a metaphor
used deep in the story
to set a mood
And she is like a diviner
uncovering a hidden spring
And it is like a flood comes from that metaphor
and changes everything
Night Summer History
This frog trail song
I think I’ll follow it
So many have probably tried to moor their ships to it
and venture into land
only to find that the people had built their villages
on the branches of trees
One man long ago came
and they dropped enormous eyeballs on his armies
and happily returned to their improvisations
He wore expensive armor
and the retina jell melted even all his clothes
Even if he didn’t have webs on his feet
being a human he had the innate ability
to join the music
of every
thing
Moon Full
just each other’s night to sing
just each other’s warmth and elegance as if formed from moonlight
your nipples dark upon the raft of silver breath of silver earth
as coyotes sing wilder in the moon-stenciled forest you move
as Icarus through his love of life transformed his wings and dove into the sea
over and over as the story is told I travel into you and look down to see
the moonlight walking into the sea
Tracery
Shadows like petals
arch in moonlight
and fall all night
until they climb again unseen
These lineages are like limbs forming a body
molded by light
born of mycelium
yet beneath this network of strewn stars
of salmon shedding fish bodies and milk
is the engine run on moon and wine
everything fermenting
into itself
The Moon Itself
I glimpsed the inner pattern of life
in the vast shimmering waves of thousands of frogs
and I stood outside my tent where the moon shines
through pine needles like a painting I’ve hung
for just myself
just because I love poetry
and the reason I love poetry
is because I hung the moon
But what makes all this art so different than a museum?
Or is it just that suddenly stepping outside
the museum is in the moon itself
Summer Audition
No shadow here
except pine bows
alders and blackberries
Waxwings riding high in Saskatoons
All so real
as if the sun blew through them
and created this arrangement of colors
Fallen peony petals from the first farmer’s market
of the season
become my floor
I’m trying to grow into my shadow
the older I get
but sometimes it’s nowhere to be seen
off crooning with the catbirds
like prompters
in the trees
Last Poem of the Night
I blow out my oil lamp
and suddenly the moon paints my canvas house
with alders
and pine boughs
It only took me blowing out a light
for more artists to appear