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Collected Poetry

    (rd king dot net)
poetry and digital art

Beating Heart, Dancing Feet  

  Green 


One day my story went on in this way:
there were white egrets walking
on the kelpbeds offshore, with
sure steps and psychic attitudes

toward the surface of the water.
Undulating with each swell they showed
a queer respect for my presence—
brightly colored and standing

above them on a yellow and eroding
finger of the bluff—that was
unacknowledged and far more distant
than the distance we shared.  And

I too gave much less thought
to the majesty of their form
than I might to a handsome
and tanned women pushing a near-empty cart

through the stunning light of a supermarket.
As if the barriers that edged our lives
were so powerful and abstract, I left
what seemed a half-hearted search

for nourishment and returned to the exit
of my sleek, green car, thinking only
of the half-hearted traffic I expected
to meet at this hour near the edge of town.



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