Agreeing
Reality, like ocean waves,
depends on factors both deep and shallow,
but mostly upon sufficient amplitude,
there must be enough “there” to be there.
Or is reality just a place we agree upon?
Forgetting
I sometimes forget the world and all its seas of foggy words,
preferring the immaculate clarity of things that say what they are,
burrows, furrows, swells, buds, suckers, shoots….
As for reality, now I think it is like grass,
hungry blades of desire pushing up into the light.
Being
Tangled versions of the truth
keep popping up like roses in the weeds.
The story may be worn out from telling,
already dying on the breeze, still, it is all an invitation,
to walk among the young succulent grasses, the daring buds.
the slight, pleasant wavering of the air,
to be the whisper of presence,
at the intersection of the recent past with the soon to come.
Poetry on the run 
Wonderful. I really like “Agreeing.”
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Thank you.
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I’m agreeing with Bob on ‘Agreeing’. That is, I’m totally with him and it.
But then I see ‘Forgetting’ and I’m reminded of Bly and his reeds, and his green settee where you say, “the immaculate clarity of things that say what they are”
And then with the grass you carry me into Whitman and his handkerchief and his uncut hair of graves. He had a way of driving a reader so deeply into whimsy and maelstrom at once, together.
And then, ‘Being’:
“Tangled versions of the truth
keep popping up like roses in the weeds.”
A best friend and I call ourselves the Queens of Roses, because we stumbled upon a particularly amazing rosebush on a street corner one night. She led me to it, actually.
And then that reminds me of Bruce Cockburn’s song, ‘The Rose Above the Sky’, which even for him, has a particularly mystical bend of mind.
“at the intersection of the recent past with the soon to come.”
I like this a lot. Really, I guess, it’s all we have…..I’m not even certain about what I mean by that…..
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Love this “Tangled versions of the truth
keep popping up like roses in the weeds.”
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