We meet once in a farmer’s market

You are selecting a peach, I’m buying okra

Talk and walk and laugh

You spin a loom, I wield an ax

Gather, break, understand

Happy when together

A long beautiful day we wish each other

Before we wave goodbye

Cups of coffee and talks

Walks along the river

What is abstract 

A question of enchantment 

How do we measure 

Content or duration

And weight 

Are dimensions important?

New in town

Sweet blackberries and burning woods in the fireplace

Are the last words in my journal

My backpack is beaten up and old

I’m in a new town

When is farmer’s market?

Which I have to find

I will meet the local people

Meld with their activities

I have to find someone soon

To fix the holes in my pockets

Before I’m flooded with losses

Which may not be able to count

I’m afraid I will be overwhelmed

But I will not be helpless.


New stories

It’s 5 below zero
I do not expect you to stay
Jazz is playing
where are the warm places you ask
I smile
The fireplace is roaring
We are talking of former travels
The wine will come to add warmth
You remember that you once loved me
And forgiven me
The summit has changed
Artists may like the different landscape
We send each other new stories
and celebrate the day of our breakup.


one sky
twelve hot air balloons,

one road
hundreds of cyclists

waking up late
I miss my breakfast

my eyes roam the sky and road
camera takes notes

the event raises funds
honors soldiers returning from wars

and helps Enchanted Hills
camp for the blind

lives of hundreds silkworms sacrificed
for a single silk scarf

the book is thick and heavy
I will turn the page for you

I will hold the lantern
to provide light for your reading

the verses hide the meaning
changes after every reading

for every creation is unfinished
includes your story and mine

are not all stories end with joy?
the sun blazes and fades

I can offer you bread and goat cheese
may not be a feast

that’s how friendship starts
if one misses breakfast

one receives kindness from a stranger
one single day.



a pair

There times a week
they hike a circular trail in the forest
that begins and ends at the cabin.
They think
repetitions darken the blood, sustain
the vigor, heighten familiarity-
junction where to view the lake,
where the creek crosses, where
the trail descends, the third rise
where they pick the freshest acorn
for the hearth., the bend where they pause
to replenish.

Their houses are eight hours apart.
One gardens and likes okra,
the other a journal-writing devotee,
ideas bounce between their minds.

Last September, a fall
disrupted the circle.
Today they forgot the key
they sat on the bench, waited
for their wives.


During certain moments of clarity

friendship looks similar to writing

a “stubborn self-discipline”

writing simple descriptions

“ a pond, a stone, tools”

to repair a chair

and being together,

assumes importance.

Writing is never precise

misplaced punctuations, dangling

words with no meaning,

forgetting to return calls.

Have to go she says

“she breaks off abruptly”

“little drawings of twisted trees”.

Both can fall over a bridge.

note: quoted words are from the book, The Story of a New Name, by Elena Ferrante.

laugh with me

I’m a waterfall
as small or as big
as your mind
can imagine.
Birds stop by
to hear my song.
Ferns grow nearby
fronds dance with glee.

Will you wish
rain for me
to keep me flowing?

come with the sun
I’ll shower you with crystals.
Don’t run away
to dry your face,
laugh with me
I’ll be your friend


photo: Japanese Garden, Butchart Gardens, Victoria,B.C., Canada