Monday, September 7, 2009

Poem from December 1997


After the Storm


I go down to the dock
to hear the restful lapping
of waves so recently slapping.

Raging wind has raced into the future
and storm is a remembering.

Hear the insect voices humming.
See the crabs and minnows dart
beneath the willows drooping shelter.

Clouds have past
and left a dome of glass.

Sun does its glittering dance
across the peaceful water
into my eyes it's sparkling.