Posted in Prose California


The quiet
of the morning
shattered by my outward
freeway thoughts
cars racing, heavy traffic
rivers rushing, trees
where woodpeckers worked
where rubber met asphalt, squealing
the crispness of the morning air
inhaling diesel, the exhaust choking

The morning breeze
wafting higher than my thoughts
the first light of sun
dancing across the treetops
a twig breaks, leaves flutter
my heart skips a beat…..

My inward wilderness
grace the otherwise noisy
of my freeway

Posted in California, Poetry, Prose, Prose California, Sierra Nevada

I Climbed a Dream

Once I dreamed
atop a mountain
somewhere in
somewhere at

I climbed a dream
no nightmarish thoughts
airy ledges
seeing my death falling
below me

I, was me
atop a rocky crag
hopping boulders
sliding, gasping
the thin air
was choking me,

I climbed a dream
or, it allowed
a memory of somewhere
something in my past,
one of my past lives
one of my thoughts
when I stood atop
some rocks, one day alone

When I dreamed
when that memory, sparked
when the time came
to seize the moment
to grasp the golden ring
to revel in being who
that one who attained

That one who marveled
that dreams do come true
but only when I now
dream those dreams,
which I never considered
dreams to be,

Somewhere, I exist
atop a collection
any jumble of stones,
of rocky passages
cool mountain streams
cold nights, aching muscles

Waking aloud
“Catch me if I fall”
said to no one, but just
relaxing on the edge
of forever….

Posted in California, Poetry, Prose, Prose California, Sierra Nevada

Opening My Eyes

The night called out
while I began to focus
my eyes on the darkness
the stars overhead
the sounds of the stream
my eyes, opening, then closing
Along some mountain stream
in an Aspen grove, quaking leaves
the wind in the pines, whispering
the water flows from snows, melting
my aching muscles, resting,
the rocky ground, makes me restless
the warmth, the cold wrestle with each other
my eyes, closing
the water rushes by, while the wind
changes direction
along the water, gathering the leaves
the Aspen, Quaking, shivering
and shaking,
the stars, silent and burning cold,
in the colder moments before the dawn
the reddish glow upon the trees,
while the sky spins around
the North Star, fading
in the morning light,
the dawn, a new day,
I pick myself up
shaking of the nighttime
now being in my bed, warm and soft
as if a cold breeze, blowing
reminded me

of another time…

Posted in California, Poetry, Prose, Prose California

The Canyon

South Fork, Middle Fork

Desert-like, Forest-Green
Mountain Sees them

Many river stretches
waysides, boulder aisles
soft meadow reaches
soft autumn tones

Red Maple abstracts
yellow willow scatters
blue water, blue sky
blue day

Cold Aspect harbors
sunless northern slopes
green fern, orange
green moss dripping
green day, here

All these colors complete

Fall into….

that lead to road’s beginning
somewhere, somewhere

My road leads back

Brief, as life sometimes seems
these days
so fade

Goodbye, Goodbye
the colors that I take with me
the thoughts
the essence, of this day

This day and I…. Remain

25 September 1985
Kings Canyon National Park

Posted in Prose, Prose California, Stories - Summer

Her Apricots, Her Peaches

The fruits of summer
remind me of you
their flavors so intense
their scents reminiscent of

Try tasting an apricot
in the glory of its life
the acrid sweetness,
like your smile
when I said

Your summer fruits
the culmination of
the flowers of Spring
scented, enticing, alluring
tasting, as if I just

The intensity of taste
equal to the season at hand
no cold Winter impressions
nor fading Autumn expressions
just savoring your tastes
like when you told me

Savoring the season
your orange blossom delights
apricot briefness
your peach soft skin

and scents of the taste

of you

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Prose California

The Sun Beat Down

And I was atop some Mountain
as was the way, I was
back when,
I closed my eyes,
and dreamed
many dreams, of who I would be
some day,

The sun beat down, and the air
was thin, and I was no more steady
than the rock, I sat upon
And rock begat rock
and they multiplied down
the mountain side, leaving me
adrift, as it were

I called out to someone
to rescue me
from myself,
but she only laughed
while walking on the waters,
of my dream mountain sea,
somewhere, elsewhere
being more sturdy, with stronger legs
and a more endearing
smile, than the sun beating down

And I chose to join her
in her boat most seaworthy,
and sail off we did
the ocean of mountains
a veritable sea of canyons,
and a rushing of rivers, churning

And we, together
knew not of this day, when I chose
to close my eyes, atop
some mountain,
with the sun beating down,
being alone, myself
and when I opened
my eyes, she
was gone….

Still dreaming of you…..

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Prose California


to the slippery faces
granite, grey and stable
the problem
not starting as such, but
difficulties surmount with time

Time and distance
clinging to a narrow handhold
wondering why I chose this day
this mountain, this time
in my life?

I might be back in the city
and all of this being a bad dream
The city with its noisy faces and
heavy air, a relative no doubt
where the air is so thin, it hardly
passes into my lungs, before exiting

The decision of going up
versus the one of falling down
is not entirely apparent to me
at this moment in time,
a broken leg, or broken back
lying with my eyes in the sky
no one to morn my passing,

Taking a chance to climb up again
the narrow ledges, cracks and a route
strangely unfamiliar, although just
having been on, forgotten then, danger lurks
my mind must have been somewhere else
just not on the job at hand,

Having attained the top again, then resting
assessing, contemplating, reassuring those
that unbeknownst to me, might have worried
if indeed I did fall to a most certain end, after
being so tired and confused

The day fades as my feet meet the trail again
behind me, in the back of my mind, fading now
the ledge which might have born my name
of he, who lost his life on this spot,
woe be him
such a painful end
to such a young existence….

Posted in Poetry, Prose, Prose California

The Mountains High

The mountains high
called to me
raising my
to a level
not unlike
the airy spires
the granite faces
deepening the fall
the last gasp
over the edge
my mind fell
but I,
I saved myself
the fall
didn’t come
as I sought
the top
the pinnacle
of my quest

searching still

Posted in California, Poetry, Prose, Prose California, Sierra Nevada

Sitting on a Shelf

Sitting on a shelf
cool, granite slabs
at my feet
the feeling that gravity
has no power in this place,

Sitting on a shelf
my feet dangling over
what others might fear
a precipice, an emptiness
a vastness, of which no bottom

Sitting on a shelf
no cares, nor worries
the grandeur of heavenly skies
surrounding my air spaces
feeling light as a feather,
with no heavier intentions, than that

Sitting on a shelf
towering spires over my head
mossy instances, clinging flowers
the sun baked the moment
the cooler recesses beckoned,

Sitting on a shelf
perched above forever spaces
an eternity calling
to others, just not me
while I shared a quiet moment
in these mountains, everlasting

Just sitting
on a shelf…