The Book with the Yellow Cover | Page 3

tank
of a Kawasaki 750.
Coming down harder,

bouncing off the seat,
dripping from the tips
of black rubber
handgrips,
tach speedometer needles
resting on their zero pegs,


twin mirrors focused back.
October,
Maine

Fortune Cookie
Almond lemon gritty on the tongue,
--_TIMES LONG AGO WILL
PRESENT
A SPECIAL TREASURE TO YOU_--
A moment
whole again?
To see more clearly, Trudi, 17,
washing in the
Woodland Valley
stream. Tamey,
giving me another nickel
to
play pinball.
Barbara's smile, wanting a child.
My grandfather's arm,
levering
a floor board, skin hanging
from his biceps cord,
holding
while I nailed.
So many treasures I can't quite see.
Wrecking Ball, Commercial Street
Salmon streaks of pulverized brick,
white pigment, tar, nicked and
scarred
in every direction, patina of blows
on a mute obdurate
interior.
Six weeks I carried it until
the beautiful surface cast off,

weightless. The iron opened from
the inside out and like a new bell

began to sing.
For Elena
The Polynesian Navigator
Swells current,
sky rimmed,
shell on a stick chart
promise of land,

alone and
singing.
Kahuna's Way
Twisting through high cane,
silver green, tossing in the trade winds,

toward the mountain wall
dark green jagged, deep shadows

where a warrior prayed,
ancient silence, Kahuna's way,
beyond
King Sugar
and the city that is coming.

Hulemalu Road
Kauai

41, In The Honolulu Public Library
Like beautiful fish
moving slowly through coral,
they eddy through
the library,
dark hair, bright dark eyes,
the wisdom of their mothers

lying gravely on their faces;
ready to love, to stay,
they flick
away
on currents deep and proper.
For Catherine, someday
in a quiet hour, wondering
what is possible
When I hold your mother
while she holds me,
all that was, is;
the
future comes
moment to moment,
complete.
For this, salmon
swim
their river, elephants
remember, wild geese
call out at dusk.

I fought and risked,
trusted and betrayed.
How can you find
another
before you find yourself,
traveling the heart's way,
alone,
unsure, knowing only
that you must?
Rage's Place
Put your forehead
on the ground and
pound your fists.
Curl on
your side,
close your eyes,
scream silently.
You will not be

answered. No.
But your cries--
your cries will be
clothes and
flowers,
honor
for the journey.
for David and Louisa
The Purkinje Shift
All day, snow,
now turning gray,
trees darker
in the fading light,

violet peace
before the night,
slowly drifting
toward the
solstice.
December
Bee Fantasy

Reaching, high on
the shoulders
of thinner air,
rising with the
Queen,
the view! the view! mating
falling and falling
back to
meadow,
the warm dark,
first light,
dancing out the maps.
The American Way
F18's screaming down
wing tip to wing tip,
brave, lethal, steady
nerve.
Johnny Copeland's lead guitar
ripping through the air,

taking us faster, inverting, 6 G's,
dark forehead, sweat, hot and loose.

Face at the bar, arched eyebrows,
black hair back, wide mouth,

brooding, sensual, slightly battered.
Fighters, blues man, beauty,

power at the edge,
the American way.
Maine
The Sculptor's Trade
On white stands:
azure/turquoise branches,
flow and knuckle taken

by poured bronze--
bent, welded, gripped,
held, colored--

artifacts, works in progress,
ship's ribs, basketry,
child's play.

Hands dream as they fashion,
remember what they feel
(her thin
shoulder,
a 9/16 inch wrench).
Let go. Follow
the sculptor's trade.

Find and shape
what is not known
until it's made.
For John von Bergen
Elegy For Simenon
Fresh air, faintly salty,
smell of bark and fallen apples,
small pond,
lily pads,
dark water. White blossoms
tinged with ruby, floating,

heavy with light.

You enter one, still searching.
Slowly,
petals
fold around you.
Deer Isle, Maine
Unfinished

Your hands
for clothes.
Your legs,
home.
We
For w.cat
Married twice,
once in a church,
once in City Hall,
each good in
its way.
Now I choose the shade
of a live oak tree, veils
of
Spanish moss,
a hundred cicadas
singing in the branches.
You are
in the north,
but still we join
beneath this green
and raucous dome

Mated. Complete.
Mindful
of those
alone.
New Smyrna Beach,
Florida
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