poetry, photography and reflections on life, aging, and dharma
The Gift of an Exquisite Love – Fifth Lineage Poem. We were eighteen years old, in our freshman year of college in a small town in Michigan. I’d borrowed the money from my girlfriend (a long story that) to take her out
But she was also the quieter, smaller one of the two. I always had the sense that she chose to hold herself close, always to defer.
redwing blackbirds
flash like fire in the sun, the Olds
sailing and sailing over waves of blacktop
my mother called on Friday
to let me know his time was near
that I needed to come now.
Actions refuse to be undone. whatever merit you’ve gathered turns to dust, blows away on the icy winds of hell. Two Poems on the karma of anger.
