Come inside now.

Stand beside the warming stove.

Watch out through the windows as

a cold rain tears down

the last leaves.

The larder full of dried herbs,

hot peppers, chutneys,

jellies, jams, dill pickles,

pickled relishes,

pickled beets.

The freezer full of frozen greens —

chard and spinach, collards, kale —

green beans, basil, red sauces,

applesauce and

smoked meats.

The woodshed dry and full of wood,

winter squashes stashed away.

Down cellar: potatoes, carrots,... Read more

A few years ago, a slim volume at Borders jumped out at me. I don’t know which caught my eye first: the jacket photograph — depicting a man’s sand-dappled shins from the POV of their owner, who’s reposing in a beach hammock — or the title, The Importance of Being Lazy. I’d been giving the subject some thought even before spotting the book. That is, wondering if I’d ever have enough free time to put on my lazy pants. The subtitle extolled what I was lacking: In Praise of Play, Leisure, and Vacations.... Read more

play my flute than write a poem--
those pure or impure tones
going out into the air,
those runs or stumbles
up and down some scale,
no need for thought,
no need for wisdom,
nothing for the mind to do,
just emotion, feeling, sound,
traveling on my breath
coming up and out of me
and through the flute,
directly out of me,
directly into you,
my breath saying all
that needs be said
by saying nothing at all.

From While We've Still Got Feet, Copper Canyon Press, 2005

Summer's here and we can hike the peaks again,
have lunch and tea on mountaintops, look down

on the backs of circling hawks and laze away
the afternoon watching blue-hazy, distant hills.

Come on! Give up those winter blues. Let's go!
Grease up those boots, find that walking stick.

Get your lungs and legs in shape. And don't forget
what Yuan Mei, said, two hundred years ago:

If you begrudge your feet some pain
you'll miss ten thousand peaks.

There is a cave on Judevine Mountain, a secret place,
way back in the woods, high up on a hidden slope,

in a place no one ever goes. Only I know where it is.
No one else has ever been there. I go up there a lot

and sit around, make a little fire, boil some tea,
sometimes cook a little meal, but mostly what I do is

sit and wait, poke at the fire, add a twig or two
and wait and wait and stare, until suddenly

I know what to do.