Wednesday, August 28, 2019

Wild Grace

I was praying on my porch,
Or writing a poem,
Tiny jeweled frogs sang
Around the garden pond,
Sun had set, it was cooling.
Suddenly a rustle,
A stag and his
Following doe
Sailed silently by--

A rustle, then wild grace,
A poem-prayer,
An answer.

Wednesday, August 7, 2019


Spirits of departed
Wheel like gulls
In morning sun
High over Marge
Of land and sea.

Flower on spear of leaf
Lay on gravestone
Small claims to memorialize
A life

Awaken grief
Surprising us alone
Sends gulls wheeling seaward
Important with small fames
Called home
To the Name of Names.

      By Charles Van Gorkom