Monday, June 15, 2009

Back on Turtle Island

a poem found by the side of the bed

there is nothing like
a cold glass of
water after waking from a dream
and surely as the damp pastel
of night leaks through your parting eyelids
a summers solitude will fill your head
with blades of reality and swirling
unanchored images.

and between your dream-stained sheets
you found a shred of what you loved about me;
how i could build a framework
of your mind 
and as you sipped 
a sweaty glass i returned the stories
to the lining of your throat.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Last Days in Oz

waking this morning
eyes still closed
I was home in New England
hearing my father down the stairs,
in the hallway
putting on his boots;
the echo of his morning routine
traveling through the old beams of the house

I smiled for a moment
at that old familiar feeling

but soon the sound was only
Tyler in the kitchen
cleaning dishes.

still here,


sunrise, star still in the sky


Fun with Kangaroos


finding the peacock

this croc was 17-18 feet long! i could fit perfectly (and conveniently) inside its torso!

blue winged kookaburra

other kooks

not an owl!