April is Poetry Month

 

 

 

 

 

Holy Thursday

Duck Season on San Francisco Bay

early for the ferry

this morning the mother duck

with five live hatchlings in close formation

glides in the estuary shallows

first tender day of Spring weather

air still cold over the Bay

moving through it at our clip

face masked with a black cashmere scarf

as if others didn't already

think me different enough

Bay bridge and cinematic city

well up like 3D FX

most of the sparse passengers

de-board downtown stunned or stoned

We who travel on to the Wharf

brace before the chill

of Thrilling Golden Gate

Art farm Sausalito

in a Cezanne light

harbor seals bark

but our barque sails on

Sidewalks bulge but

the deluge is still to come

Decide I'll walk the main drag today

past the brilliant red buildings

 visible from space

Lurid kitsch horror

entertainment billboards

hover overhead

Old tableau a dummy

overhead in a life preserver

gigantic lighthouse prism

revolve the kaleidoscope

of Fisherman's Wharf

outlandish vehicles

megawatt primary colors

the old Fisherman's neon raincoat

Flowers for the Dungeness crab

on Hyde Street Pier

the tall ships renewed and resplendent

Mild enough walk into frigid water

I liberate the small beach

children and others come and go

Alone again two iridescent ducks swim in

Upend themselves finding food

Small wave tosses one out of the water

onto his feet in the sand no problem

soon another wave lifts both out of the water

they poetically turn it into flight

Overhead a sinister silver plane

with a huge surveillance disk

goes out low past the Gate

and comes back again

Leaving the Port of Oakland

several gunboats were seen racing in

endless anxious preparedness

Big flock of black terns

on waters under the bay bridge

shift when the ferry comes

I've lost the butterfly effect

my heart doesn't flutter

into somersaults  of elation
as it once did

yet peace is briefly held

astonishment of topography

sea and sky orchestrations

the feats and stunts of civilization

the ease of an adventure such as mine

the new eastern span sifts

 Mount Tamalpais

Stop at the Alameda side

two perfect ducks in flight

level with me

returning on the mythic path I just came

estuary trail the Bay bridge and Golden Gate

line up in the shimmer

the warmest day this year

 

metallic full moon

bangs a gong in Chinatown

purple gray light

 

 

 

 

 

 

Easter Outing

 

 

 

 

 

In kite-like solitude

rocks on a submarine walkway

high tide waters with creation look

not dirty old Bay

Two geese both in the seawater

preening they double themselves

kick rapid little kicks

flapping up to walk on water

throwing the heads back

to vibrate against wings

 

Married couple of ducks

on the ramp into the drink

a lone ducks flies over

both recoil instinctually

for a rival duck or a hawk

First kite I watched

flew over to the marina cove

and fell as if off a cliff diving

slender slingshot wings

Past the rocks a fisherman

casts out existentially

 silent sail sound of the waves

ululating a neon green rock

grown heavy in moss

 

The two ducks of Easter

patrol the rail swimming

then come inside with me

From here I hear all the words

 the water makes

Young Mom with blue green hair

her little girl dangles her feet

 in the restless water

Lady with platinum bob

and a stroller

 attempts to feed the wild ducks

They show no interest in her cookies

Little boy shows up throws stuff

at  the ducks

takes off his shirt splashes about

 

Down Crab Cove multitudes

of geese on the water

squadrons squawk loudly

as they peel into flight

Heavy birds flying close by me

I raise my arms to help them

navigate away from me

This repeats itself

until the last group takes off

coming right towards me

I wave my heather denim jacket

they elevate without

changing course

bound to the sky
off we go
rising

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Earth day three planets

in bright indigo twilight

evening star so near

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Easter Mass at last

new life in accidental time

the Cross draped in white

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saints do not appear to the living

Only Jesus and the Virgin Mary

may appear in corporeal form

He ascended

She was assumed in heaven

Elijah rode a chariot into heaven

but hasn't been seen since

Jesus was last on the mount of Olives

Angels can appear in angelic form

which is not physical material

The Holy Ghost manifests

in metaphysical form

God the Creator

 hasn't been seen on Earth

Since Moses and Mount Sinai

where He appeared as a Burning Bush

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Egret flies below

I flatten slender grasses

try to do no harm

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 April 2019

 

 

April 2019