Enhanced and entranced
struggling against the tide
the froth, the foam


The darkness surrounding me
with but one light shining
one light in the distance, fading
and yet,


Grasping and gasping
I knew in my heart
deep down where the light
never had been before, but now
the smallest indication, a hint
her lips speaking in prose
a feeling of poetry perhaps


Just her Haiku-like fingers
the feel of water
running down my spine,

Being in her wake
existing in a state, not static
nor one given to interpretation


What she felt for me
what I felt, what I needed
rolled over me like a wave




I appreciate the color grey

not just the one color it was before,

neither the one it is on the way to become,


Something about the color grey

in a woman’s hair

tells me, incites me, enthralls me

something, I never would have imagined, before

my own hair attained such a state of affairs


What we were, then

what we are, today

more than just two sides of the same coin

as the more we turn it over in our hands

the more it changes colors, the shine develops

to another form, another tone

the way if feels between my fingers

changes if they are rough, or smooth


The color grey

existing as something before, what we were back when

a transition, a myriad of images, something that tells of age

of experience,


For my sake

don’t color it to something else,

something that speaks of another time, lost

or, what would purport to alter, what reality says it is today

with all of its stories woven in

I think, I prefer

to many of the other choices



The color grey….




oak tree mætning

Why are the grasses greener, when I think back in time?

It was easier to fall in love, and the music on the radio was something

you could sing along to,

The world seemed a kinder place, and my parents seemed like, they would always be around,

The skies were bluer, and my friends and I had time to kill, time to explore, time, just time to do with what we wanted to,

Money seemed to go a lot farther, and I always had some in the bank when I needed it,

Why is my memory so alive, when I think back to the past?

Why this, and why that, and why can’t I explain it to others

so they can revel in my memory as well?

Why are the grasses greener, the skies bluer, the women more satisfied

while all the while

I remained the same….

or, did I?



Her meat sauce
simmering on the stove
something that never failed
to fog up my glasses
every time
I entered her kitchen,

Her flavors
tasting each and every spice
I used to call her Marjoram
unusual, not what everyone had,
like I had her,

While the pasta cooked
and we lie al dente
in each other’s arms,
while the kitchen steamed
and my glasses made it hard
to see her,

So very hard…..



My keyboard
went cold,
though my fingers
were warm, still

Your eyes
were distant,
while we apart, were
looking for answers
with none to be found,

My fingers
warm to the touch
sending impulses back
to my thoughts, warming them
taking them farther
out to you

Distant in your thoughts
warmed a bit, now
by the thought of someone
of you…




As a shepherd
the two homeless waifs, who
stood in my care,
although, others would consider
them to be different
by possessing another origin
than myself,

A family were we still
the three of us,
and looking back
on my decision, knowing that
I wouldn’t have had it
any other way
no matter what anyone
might have thought
about it,

No matter how others might see it, in any way, shape or,

direction, we still were

one family, indivisible…




Buer Bree adjusted 2

There among the shattered faces

underneath the waters falling

where I saw her face

transparent in the cold blue ice

where the last time, we last parted

in the background spaces

along the headwall, sheer and looming

into the Bergschrund, where she’d fallen

down went the rope, with me tied to it

along the icefall, where my handholds faltered

into the chasm, into the darkness

only her last cries, heard above

the last time we looked at each other

into the darkness, into my memory

along where the glacier ground and shattered

the rocks falling, my tears freezing

somewhere in the mountains frozen

high above where we once gazed

towards the challenge, confident and laughing

down to the empty bed beside me


My love, my lost

my tears won’t stop

she would just have laughed

and chided me, for not wanting

daring to take a chance


Along the headwall, placed I flowers

her picture, my last love letter, unopened

standing, gazing, wondering why


The glacier grinding slowly

the waters moving swiftly

our passage through this space



just fading away

Buer Glacier, Norway. 2011.



Today in Denmark
while the wind blew and my fingers
and I dove into the blue
and lost myself


and you might just lose yourself, as well….



P1000687 spejlvend

Thinking of the turbulent skies of my youth

now mellowing into skeleton trees aflame with light

sharpening my sight, closer to the heart

of the only real thing that matters



What is today
wasn’t the day before
what colors entered my sight

20170716_143152 polerise varm hdr kryds

What was transferred to my way of thinking
filed, worked through, subjected
to other impulses, experiences

20170716_143152 - spejlvend farver

What thoughts were transferred back
what my mind told my eyes they were
seeing, what I wanted others to see
when I explained, what I had taken a photo of


Then I tossed it into my filter salad
adding and subtracting, the right amount of oil
or, not enough vinegar, just a bit cooled, a dash of salt and pepper,
before serving

20170716_143152 - polerise varm hdr


20170716_143152 - orton

*Sugar Pine Cone (Pinus lambertiana). Photo taken in California. July 2017.

Bon Appétit