earth note 707

first night at glacier national park

it rained only like a cold summer rain

     can

the tent stood without complaining

cold cascading off the mountain

a deer sharing the campsite

left a misty breath

to fade under the overcast

a couple days later all was clear

the road down to the lake warming up

with travelers & kayaks

we found the tallest of the pines

to lean with

fair winds to wake with

rock and ice up over our boots

--- e b bortz

earth note 706

koh samui thailand 1988-1989

no woman no cry

stowed away on a freighter

out of trenchtown jamaica

bob marley & the wailers awakening

in their sound

a connection

     no

the connection

between the soil and the sea

and the human condition worldwide

that can only answer

with honesty

a fisher's net that more often than not

comes up mostly empty

but where there's still the music

beneath the wounds

the heart knows no boundaries

if you reach

and touch the water

--- e b bortz

vibrato

for every blue note

the exhale wavers

the throat emits tears

the lines in the face deepen

--- e b bortz

it seemed like a good day to confer with camus

one of those warm dry days

summer not quite over

a restless dog covering every foot

along the linear grass line

on friendship avenue

neighborhood woodwork exposed by open blinds and windows

looking out like a sage from a painter's easel

looking for common ground

a way out of the perpetual crisis

paint not dry yet

over images of apocalypse

camus had the knack

of a critical mind

and soft touch from a long lost love

walking a poodle

was the perfect disguise

for a former editor

of the french underground resistance newspaper

combat

takes on new forms all the time

camus wrote with the rage

of coexistence and confederation for his boyhood algeria

though they wouldn't listen to him then

the poodle gets out a muted bark

to get your attention

the painter's canvas ultimately

turns out to be something else

altogether different

camus opens his notebook

his eyes focus

the words

bear the weight of the world

--- e b bortz

earth note 705

the pilot whales that beached

and died a few years ago

at snipe point in the florida keys

never left suicide notes

never spoke up to government bodies

other than thru their own bodies

never roared their engines

or caused the wetlands to dry up

     & burn

--- e b bortz

earth note 704

the dog park

was a ghost town yesterday

the big oaks standing alone

facing each other

subdued in their own shadows

folding back the rush of high noon

filling water bowls

felt like good citizenship

self-serving

as it may have been

stark white stone

from the observatory

more historic than functional

newton still has his eye

on the apple

where the cross country trail

meets up

each for our own reasons

we take in the quiet

comfort and hold it

momentary as it is

--- e b bortz

earth note 703

earth note 702

telluride, colorado

the mountain is a prayer flag

not an idol

not one to compromise

with a plunderer

the great divide is not just geological

but spiritual

if you're listening

the mountain will speak to you

when you touch the rock

you connect with all of history

all tribes     streams     forests

past present future

from the tallest ponderosa

to the stout pinyon

you are now a caregiver

these are your children

--- e b bortz

zeda

my maternal grandfather

was a tinsmith

also

actually

a metal pattern designer

but like many immigrants

left to the whims of the boss

it was

a tinsmith

catching the bus every day

for a short-changed pay envelope

and as my mother told it

the family fought off rats in their

cleveland tenement apartment

but zeda always kept his tools close by

cutting bending fabricating

the most sophisticated metal additions

to the walls & floors

blocking & frustrating the rodents

skilled hands protecting the family

like a joe louis left hook

off the jaw of max schmeling

--- e b bortz

earth note 701

before the sun comes up

it would be best

to find that imaginary place

hanging on like the last days of summer

when the north country shifts

and the words come over the ridge

to find a river

--- e b bortz