LIFE LINES

Moon soft-full just over the tips of the white pine trees.

Han Shan could have charactered this,

                                                                    but I can’t seem to.

My brush is too short

To find the right rocks and the bark for eternity.

The past is closing fast and is just about in front of us.

I like the wind at its back.

I like the way its butt twitches and its shoulders shrug.

It thinks I don’t know where it’s going,

                                                              but I do, Jack, I swear I do.

The beautiful evenings of early summer, blue sky

At its end, and green of the arborvitae,

                                                                    green of the lime trees.

Such a wide membrane

Holding eternity back, stretched tight, holding it back.