Home
by 
We talked across the table About the Mississippi River and its Delta And barbecue and what we’ve done with Our lives so long and so far from That Mississippi and the lands that Drained its rain runoff into it And
Soft Spring Rain
Waking here in this gentle place Made even more gentle by soft rain, Soft spring rain that slows everything Everything except the busy mockingbirds Their songs beautiful in the rain but Oh so serious to them as they claim Their
Sunday at the Beach
Sunday morning in springtime at The Beach Is there any better time At any better place Listening to my mockingbird friend So anxious to find a mate To bring to his turf to make babies with. There is no air cleaner
The River will bring you joy
Flyin’ across the Atlantic, middle of night Levon Helm’s voice cured by cigarettes and Whiskey comes on my earphones. He’s singing The Weight and his soul enters My own, this man from Helena, Ark just a Little downriver from
Dr. King
Dr. King They will tell you he was a drum major. All about service and leading the band. He was that. But Dr. King was so much more. Warrior chief for justice and peace and radical love. Jesus love. Nonviolent fighter,
Small Bar
Sliver of a table in a small, noisy bar Or tavern we chatted: life, loves our Loves, especially, frustrating, mad Though they make us and as bad As they can be Necessary it seemed to us key Critical maybe not
Anti-Fracking Poem
This poem I wrote last spring is reprinted from Blue Collar Review, a great journal of working class and progressive poetry. In Pennsylvania They punch into our ground To blow up our earth and release gas and
Late at Night
Sometimes late when sleep is held at bay All those memories come to play You know, they’re never far When a chance comes the night to mar And the memories reopen the breaks in the Heart unhealed and time
Rolling
Leaving New York City the train Follows the Hudson into the Adirondacks Majestic in the cold December air Rising above the river mountain stacks Into the sky, they drain Their water, snow, moisture back to river Now its little cities
Compassion in this Season
Whatever happened to compassion? Not just love for your family Or affection for your friends But compassion for all, love for creation? All creation. All that God put here To live together supposedly in harmony? ‘Tis the season as they
These works within this section are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License
Get Your FREE Copy of
18 Essential Qualities that Every Organizer Must Have
**Double-check your email for accuracy to ensure you receive your free e-book.
Privacy Assured:
Your email address is never
shared with anyone
