Monday, October 22, 2012

Sailing the Spirit-Wind

Medusa Head, Cistern, Istanbul
[Thanks to Katy Brown for finding us this photo!]

—Carol Louise Moon, Sacramento
I step out on the stoop,
stoop down to pick up a leaf
before leaving the house
to have tea with Kate.
I hesitate.

Patterns of autumn leaves
catch my eye—golden ones
like arrows pointing in so
many directions.  Confusion

sets in again, another reason
not to drive this season.
Leaves pointing to Maple Street
where Mabel lived, or Live Oak
where Liz lives, or Sycamore
for more of Wendy—wind

moaning between branches
in biblical lamentations.
I have my limitations with her.
Today is not a good day
for driving, or arriving late.


—Taylor Graham, Placerville

The family he left behind claims nothing
of what we say is true. He was only sailing
in search of archetypes. Figments. Lions.
The sword of Orion. Vulcan’s hammer.
            An island of mourning
doves and a beautiful woman of unreachable
smile. He was only filling his log-book
with the falling leaves of his mind, small
pages let loose on the wind as he hurried
back and forth across dawns and evenings,
            sailing the mirrors of waves;
sharing figs and roasted lamb with his
friends, his crew.
Miles of coastline debouching rivers
           and streams. Ruins of the tombs
of ancient kings, whose leg-bones became
statues carved in cliffs.
An inland sea is paradise, the golden fiction
                                     of freedom.
           But I say, this is the true
story. Now he is past, where fictions
sail the spirit-wind.

—Photo by Evan Myquest, Sacramento

—Caschwa, Sacramento

I stand a full half-inch
above five feet and eight
there is too much to pinch
if you're watching my weight

gray hair topping brown eyes
that view from old sockets
government sending spies
to measure our pockets

when one carries loose change
praise to freedom can't sing
even homes on the range
all belong to the king

War put us in deep debt
burdens we can't bury
and keep a safety net

Indian casinos
barely stave off starving
while Gas-X and Beano's
back up turkey carving

Halloween, trick or treat
money spent on candy
bankruptcy, now upbeat
Yankee Doodle Dandy!


(That is what I would name twins)

Yesterday, somehow
a delightful coworker
passed along to me
two fortune cookies

from a local eatery
I ate the cookies
and read the fortunes
tucked neatly inside

but were those fortunes
really meant for me
or was I reading passages
that belonged to another?

one of the fortunes
oddly enough
said I would be changing
my line of work

the President says
change is good
who am I to dispute
such authority?

the other fortune
kissed my vanity ass
and said I had some
pretty nice qualities

good fodder for that
resumé I am composing
as gateway to
that next line of work


Today's LittleNip:

—Carol Louise Moon

broad adobe garden tiles
stoic in the moonlight:
one salutes the northern wind
two peer through the silver mist
three press hard against the east

ashened leaves of autumn
join ranks along the foot path



—Photo by Evan Myquest