Sally Forth

From a lush temperate fjord

I shall sally forth into the unknown

Over continent and tumultuous sea

To a land renowned for snow

For happiness and health

To study our shattering Arctic

To drink of the world’s knowledge.

Leafy Liverwort

Scales of green

Overlapping in tight harmony

Plated stems branching down

Curling out into the open air

Individuals clustered

In a cozy colony

Set amid the mosses

You grow sleekly on the alder

Leafy liverwort

Porella navicularis.

Phantom Fungi

Phantoms lurk in my mind

Haunting the neural networks

On which I must travel

They dog my thoughts

They pop-up like mushrooms

Sometimes beautiful and poisonous, or

Tasty and cute, or

Stinky and horrible

Strong enough to break asphalt

Frail enough to die

Beneath the weight of a bigger thought

Wisps that fade away on sight

Or glow at attention

Phantom fungi.

When the Autumn Storms Come Calling

When the Autumn storms come calling

Whilst the Autumn leaves are falling

There’s a tension in the air

There’s a fire in my veins,

For the wind is in the treetops

Blowing fierce and strong

For the clouds are building, billowing

Vast behemoths of water proud,

The sky becomes a battleground

The seas begin to churn

The trees prepare for Winter

The hearth-fires begin to burn,

When the Autumn storms come calling

With elemental might

Summoning both sleep and death

Howling in the night.

Golden Gibbous Moon

The moonlight shines on the water

The stars smile down from above

The wind gently ruffles wavelets

Peace lies across the sea,

The Moon casts down

A path of golden light

Shimmering across the water

Reaching for me,

Enchanted I paddle up the ribbon of light

An elvish elixir filling my heart

On the path to the golden gibbous Moon.

An Old Man and His Dog

When the morning sun wrapped its vaporous shawl close

When the days were short and cold

Out in a sturdy skiff of wood in rain and sleet

And old fisherman rowed.

From dawn to dusk he set to sea

Casting his lines again and again

Reaping the harvest of the sea’s bounties

When the land’s were meager and drear,

Then he came home at night

To a cold, dark, hut

Lit precious wood in his stove

And put nice fresh fish in an old stew pot,

Later to the tune of the whistling storm

He settled close to the cooling stove

And let the tides of sleep carry him away

To a land of patchwork dreams.

One night as he listened to the storm

The thunder shaking his walls

As lightning split the air

He heard, in an expectant silence, a scratching at the door,

Begrudgingly he left his bed

For the night was fierce and cold

And cracked open his door to see

What the stoop might hold,

The lightning flashed and in its light

His eyes were met by an old hound dog

Soaked to the bone and shivering

It soulfully implored,

With a sigh the old man let it in

For it was no night to be out alone

And in it slunk gratefully

As the old but sturdy plank door shut out the storm,

He dried it with his holeyest blanket

He gave it heads and tails of fish

He rubbed its ears as it wagged its tail

And then went back to bed,

And as he drifted back to sleep

That old hound dog curled up on his feet

And the old man realized that up until now

His toes had been stone cold, sea cold, but not anymore.

Catch the Wind

The sails are bright on a sunny day

As they catch the wind over waters of blue

Sparkling waves kick up foam about the bows

Of the wooden hulls that hold the crew,

The wind is a mischief maker

Shifting from east to west

The wily sailor folk are tacking

At the gray bearded captains' behest,

Hither and yon across the wild waters

Aimless it would seem

But at the end of the day they are snug away

In a harbor safe to dream.