Here are a few samples selected from the eighty-seven poems in this volume.  If you decide to order this book, click the email address below.  Be sure to include the following in your message:  (1) title of book being ordered, (2) your full name and mailing address.

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Salt Spray Neptune is at play or war.  Which is hard to tell when figuring the gods Tumultuous waves rumble double fortissimo against basalt/granite boulders. Imperious Atlantic grinds back   boundary cliffs, relentlessly reduces them to dust one micro-granule at a time. Each surging hit shatters into vaulting pillars of light and mist Salt spray on my lips and the ferocious taste of awe	The Way Our World Is Sheltered from dark, cold and gales ruling our streets this February evening, I enjoy my scotch, and you your glass of wine, with smoked gouda and crackers here by the fireplace whose enchantment reflects orange and yellow in your eyes Dinner is progressing in the oven. Tensions of a hectic day relax their grip as we settle into home’s warm embrace Long lines of refugees fleeing one ravaged place for another parade across the TV screen. This is the way our world is – for us, for them We savor our drinks, speak of our day, sort mail into piles of keep and toss. This return address alerts us to yet another appeal appeal appeal to save a child – perhaps this emaciated toddler with bloated belly and hunger-crazed eyes in the endless line still staggering in high definition across our screen We’ll write another check – after dinner.   It has been said, “To save one life is to save a universe.”  Yes, we’ll do this while we wait for revolution
Willy This yellow lab leaves no doubt that my arrival at his door is an occasion of purest ecstasy His whole body trembles with jolt after jolt of joy that, should he lose control, would launch him into orbit Weeks of obedience training are utterly annihilated by irrepressible explosions of mania wracking his body.   Who can obey the “sit” command when your very being is on fire! So, I brace myself before opening the door, prepared to feel the full weight of his leaping bounding whirling welcome All of this at my arrival! What an ego boost even though its all over in a minute even though I know he’ll do it again for whoever shows up next	The Holy “And the holy had its abode only in denial” Czeslaw Milosz no thing yet a presence sometimes an absence perhaps a madness or a longing white as in all colors black as in no color nowhere everywhere nothing all the unnamable blessed be the name Home
Snow's Silence gentle snow full of light drifts tranquilly throughout this night softens lamps to muted glow dims bright signals of stop and go reins in steps to slower pace subdues these words to lower case damps down talk to proper place gives night’s silence a lustrous face	Next Year In Jerusalem Conclusion of Passover Seder There is no better world, dear ones, than we imagine.  The best, still to be, we carry in our hearts, our minds and our tenacious wills This comes to us from those who’ve gone before.  They’ve left their soaring dreams for us, unfinished.  Nor is it ours to make complete their shining schemes We add, subtract and modify as best we can.  When our limit’s reached, we give to those who follow the work we’ve done – still incomplete Thus is our world built, the heavens also, brick on brick, cloud on cloud. Somewhere in us utopia seems encoded – glimpsed, as through a shroud Moses, atop myth’s splendid peaks saw distant lands he never reached
Outward/Inward Count me among companions who will hymn our awe outward beyond the blaze of stars, far into the dark unknown – and soul-ward into psyche’s deep caves impervious to our probing beams.  Outward/Inward seem about the same.  Look for me with those who, eschewing hoary answers, will repeat the old queries.  Find me in company of those who rummage wizened texts and bones, travel paths of DNA, gather rocks from Mars, photograph light seconds this side of the Big Bang – and just short of the soul. Specks of astral dust, we spin in dazzling light – hymn mystery on rim of great black Whole	A Poem May A poem may make you laugh,             cry, think, change, swear, wonder – one or any combination thereof. It may take you to vistas                                                                                         never before seen or habitations long forgotten A poem may flare into an ah-ha moment, or slowly persuade a reluctant wick A poem may baffle you, failing to ignite even one small spark of recognition. When this happens to me I walk away – and sometimes will visit it again to see if I have learned its language or it has learned mine A poem may be brief or wispish, but if it is real it is never trivial or unnecessary I could tell you a story from my youth – how a poem magically morphed into an icon that, over all these years, has never stopped whispering I am more Look deeper