No need

I wonder where my hand is in all this, 
this marsh where moss floats and webs
stay put, bugs plane pond-skin unafraid
of the sleepy-eyed frog just back from the edge
and full. Here is safe and here is calm;
nothing ever happens here that wasn’t
fore-ordained, announced by ripples or
sudden silence.
It feels like death.
Happiness would be a shock.
No need.

I’ll bide my time, lay here wild,
skim this unmade life, this greenish
eden-bayou, this unfriendly not-mine
as all eventually devour this man,
whispering via mosquito-buzz:

there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

*

Quench your thirst for more poems HERE.

And in case you’re interested, BOOKS HERE.

Sea Wall with Mountain in Background

“Do you love him?”

We walk the Sea Wall.
He studies the sound,
Grouse Mountain, green-black 
cross-hatch of hemlock and fir.

      “No.”

“Sure?”

      He talks past water
      lapping round rocks,
      love near water
      breathing distant trees.

“Because it’s okay if you do.”

      A canopy.
      I love this place.

“I love that mountain.”

      He loves the mountain.
      Vancouver.
      He loves me.
      All that love.

“Two trees in a forest, eh?
You and me.”

      Side by side,
      friend I love; 
      side by side,
      roots entwined.

      “Yes, you and me.”

*

More poetry HERE.

And if you’d like a short story, click HERE.