earth note 847

twelve thousand miles

from the ohio river

to chaweng beach

& mae nam bay

it seems like

more than one lifetime

or the great north woods

at the headwaters

of the mississippi

anishinaabe and ojibwe land

where blue heron keeps watch

against all odds

the bananas peddled

as the boats land

at na thon harbor

the farang get antsy

the tuk tuks

speed away loaded

there are still wobblies

in leadville

a freedom train

is not easily derailed

you can still cut your teeth

like rocky mountain granite

this time of year

the leaves drink

at ground level

before feeding the earth

the alleghenies holler

and head for cover

--- e b bortz 

earth note 846

there's a line of sight

from the observatory

to the hillsides

of the charles street valley

where the sun struggles

to burn off the haze

a way to cleanse the vision

if that's at all possible

who's to say

we've taken care

of the obvious

no pat on the back

will change what may

come as a surprise

even to the most perceptive

eyes can fool you in a wink

--- e b bortz 

the dog is barking at phantoms

maybe the snow is too bright

shadows can often fool yah

daylight savings is a fraud

you made your bed

now sleep in it

get the full measure

when a paw is raised

don't second guess

the direction

you've had more chances

than one

to make your point

the traffic is paying no attention

could care less

when lent comes but once a year

(everybody knows)

there's atonement

in your future

--- e b bortz 

earth note 845

the ground woke up hard

ice gathering

hanging

like mountain tears

frozen in place

the children will remember this year

cold steel

mouths crying out for water

trudging back roads

overweight backpacks

no one knows how the trail goes

it finds its way on sunken shoulders

bodies scattering up the ridge

to the high points

carrying the dead onward

--- e b bortz 

earth note 844

rarely as i remember

march comes in as a lamb

but limping as a three-legged fox

     yes

     one actually passed along the ridge

coming out of months hibernation

finally spinning the bicycle wheels

where the allegheny & ohio rivers speak in one voice

yet all i can really hear and think about

are the explosions of the russia war

bombarding the people of ukraine

armored columns against

apartment houses & hospitals

civilians throwing bodies

against the tanks

sewer lines become shelters

borscht the manna of the resistance

refugees by the millions

look for winter coats

the pale chalk-white

facade of a human

white upon white imperial dream

go back to russia

there's no hiding

in a locked & loaded nuclear ready

blood is a river

--- e b bortz 

earth note 843

tapi river southern thailand

silt lands on the riverbank

reaches out in desperation

and clings to it

sun dives through a hole

previously known as sky blue

prayer wheels spin

and hope for the best

if you get lost

learn to use your guttural voice

don't let the wind look past you

--- e b bortz 

earth note 842

drizzle pulls me away by afternoon

like a funeral from a lonely hollow

but i'm not giving up

the moon may still

come out early

i just heard a great bluegrass version

     of

for what it's worth

followed by a live 1979 leonard cohen

so long marianne

     with a long violin solo

there were times when we all knew the hymns

kent along the banks of the cuyahoga

far back into the archives of maj

and daniel thompson

and lang

and so so many more

it hurts to say

i didn't listen close enough

didn't hear

the fleeting space between the stanzas

the drum beats

of each breath

waiting for an answer

the tears

never accounted for

--- e b bortz

recovering notes from the deep, part 26

you've turned the inside of your arms

towards the sun

exposing them

finally burning them

like an old folk song

left on the highway

five hundred miles

is a long walk

never liked the idea

of leaving a place

and never returning to it

it's like leaving a piece

of yourself

there's a migraine

that's taken the lead

in a footrace

there will be no winners or losers

& no one's looking forward

to the finish line

could just fade away

a vanishing point

where excuses come easy

or not at all

after all

the song

is the journey

--- e b bortz 

today there's talk of football & war

yevtushenko opens the trenches

his own included

never to be covered

     babi yar

the painters will make murals

before the death knell rings

old men and old women

take to their posts

there are superbowl commercials

that must be aired

ukrainian & russian biathletes

tempted to lay down their arms

just do it

jewish souls wander

trenches speak louder

than words

     babi yar

--- e b bortz 

earth note 841

new mexico route 4

at the peak of summer

the mountain grass

still feels cool to the touch

     like autumn

immersed by secret springs

only the original people know

hard rock canyons leave their echo

when you step into them

a trail full of hoof & foot prints

eventually fade into forest ground cover

a sign announces a vista

after the fact

train your eyes for the long view

     nothing else has changed

--- e b bortz

earth note 840

gray cold just above zero

snowflakes fall listless

you're looking for a shortcut

of a couple thousand miles

to a square grouper

but then the barracuda speaks

and it's best to leave the perimeter

every predator has a price

you're in no hurry to pay

wait for the ocean to go flat

follow the manta ray shadows

as they grow toward sunset

you never expected to hear

a jimmy buffett song

but you will

about an abraham lincoln brigadista

--- e b bortz

earth note 839

snake river

when it's rushing

the sound will mellow

muffle your eardrums

sometimes you'll see

a trout glistening in sunlight

nipping at the air

most often there's a cold wind

that wants to join in

winding up & down the valley

picking among the big pines

just shy of the tree line

     to find

mountain heather

--- e b bortz

sopapilla sunrise

albuquerque

the very last of a dry sweet autumn

pickup trucks idling in line

waiting behind the mountain

the avenues intersect but then go

their own way after the traffic circle

the rail yards rust in an orange glow

like sweat equity expropriated

stolen by a down payment

of empty promises in the night

     oh sweet

by and by

--- e b bortz 

fly ash blues

everyone was kinda eyeing up

the new kid in the neighborhood

that would be me

in the alley behind our house

soot gathered at the curb

the empty lot beside the school

that had burned down years before

served well for pickup football games

so i showed off my speed

not knowing how to answer

some of the snide remarks

about the 'commanists' that

used to live in the house

we had just moved in to

i don't know how it started

but everyone started calling me benji

after my middle name

since i did play clarinet

and besides

i was a jew

who was happy or sad enough

to run circles

around most of them

across every empty lot

on the 'nor' side

instead of chasing down loose change

to buy another pack of pall malls

winter brought black ash

on white snow

so i had to get into playing pool

to stay warm

pittsburgh after all was nothing

more than a company town

of 1950s slimy politicians

looking for new ways

to urban removal

or 'screw the people'

& wave the flag

all at the same time

so sometimes you just have to

cut out your space

& make the most of a lousy hand

you were never gonna be

another bobby layne or john henry johnson

you were stuck right now

up against the murky rivers

of time

and circumstance

as my dad would always tell me

everything will change

when the time is ripe

and the wind is at your back

--- e b bortz

earth note 838

the darkness at 5:30 am

cold as a creaking maple

snow dust swallowed

in a breath

--- e b bortz

earth note 837

red sky

cold quiet

ground frozen

hallowed just the same

crows pick at the ice

lemon thread winter

stoic

--- e b bortz

'tis the season

the crows found a way into the garbage

a murder you could call it

the grapefruit musta had just enough

vitamin c left

to make it most desirable

     also

too many candy wrappers

for good dental hygiene

it rained most of the night

cardboard recyclables soaking up

the morning

     warm again

it must be spring

--- e b bortz

earth note 836

we waited too long

to shake the pear tree

maybe next year will be different

'course the deer & the mourning dove

need a break too

this pear tree could have played

in the nba

towering above even the pines

always bending with the wind

someone told me

a stepladder is not a new invention

--- e b bortz

earth note 835

when the longest night ended

an owl called out halfway down the ridge

it's about time to start listening

the treetops finally went motionless

school buses took to the avenue

a month late

the new variant has grabbed

every headline

it feels like a choke hold

the country needs a long sick leave

even the river takes the magic

out of the valley & sends it down

into endless grey

coal for the stockings

we can always come up

with another pretext

before congress goes home

--- e b bortz

so what if a long december is self-absorbed

where a dry river use to flow

it doesn't mean next year

will be a total bust

you can search the shoreline

before the first snow

touch every part of it

follow it to the ocean

take a rain check

on finding just the right metaphor

to describe the empty mist

the whole planet is in a mist

there are chords you have

in your back pocket

never used

if you get desperate

a few of them will do

there are california smoke jumpers

to bring you through next year

you can join them on jack's ridge

take enough water & respirators

for the crew

remember that the rivers are dry

remember that this isn't just

another lonely

misdirected

heartache

--- e b bortz 

autumn requiem

joins the rain gutter 

snare rhythm section

pinging just before another cloud burst

before a thorough dousing

a dog barks on the heels 

of base drum echo

where saints are marching up the avenue

exhausted leaves in their wake

still a couple weeks

'til the winter solstice

--- e b bortz 

earth note 834

there's a gravel pit

battered machinery

and a sour water well

at the end of the limestone road

beyond that

black mountain rises fast

to get away

gray days wear you down

running out of time

is always just an approximation

your feet are your best tools

search & remember

each trail head & valley

for new flora

--- e b bortz 

i dreamt the mariana trench

in the western pacific

would be deep enough

to accept the tears of the planet

but of course the tears never end

and everything changes

even the shadows on the moon

from the top of si surat stupa

the ocean gleams with pride

sending off each wave

like a kiss

but of course the kiss ends

everything changes

even the shadows from the sun

on songkhla beach the sand rushes off

in a steep undertow

taking the breath

right out of you

like tears

--- e b bortz 

camus found a shortcut

below the bloomfield bridge

a lot of the neighbors

refused to acknowledge this

they were satisfied to cling to the old ways

& their own narrow paths & visions

but there are open fields and tall grass

and a hidden pond i've been told

where the painters and weavers and sculptors

left their marks over the years

and where few even know about this

of course there are plenty of gray days

that hang over the steel superstructure

a legacy to hot metal plunder

but when you look closely

you can still see as camus saw

an earth that refuses all previous assumptions

caressed by a gentle hand of forgotten dreams

water to feed the most thirsty

a morning skylight with a wet brow

a forgotten trail to bring us home

--- e b bortz 

there are no alleys on geranium ridge

and when the clouds permit

the sun throws everything

at the ideal

even buena vista

a street as well as an aura

passing through our barely

post-adolescent lifelines

the sweat of our palms

impossible as it may seem

you told me once

it was a long walk home

like passing through the valley

of crying children

though you loved children

and you left before

the valleys were left in rust

'neath a stack of lost church pews

& scattered red bricks

from woods run

you went back east

before going out west again

and i can't say

i blame ya

but before all that

why'd you hook up

in a lost fleeting moment

with a guy singing

(off-key)

& phony

right outta the military-industrial 

draft board songbook

geranium street emptied over the years

but i think the city steps might still be there

up to the buena vista cobblestones

watch out for the drop-off

before the flowers bloom

test the earth before you step

but don't run away

with your hands in your pockets

--- e b bortz

roads riverbeds canyons buttes & mesas

i know these words have been used

more elegantly than here

sometimes we wait too long

for the perfect phrase

combinations of underused words

won't fool anybody

how many times have the leaves changed

before and after their sequence of prime colors

or from the terra incognita

you wait for the perfect

that never comes

the road will sort us all out

in the end

at some point

there will be dust squalls

& flash floods

the land has a watchful eye

& never made promises

--- e b bortz

earth note 833

leaves fall like hollow words

onto the paper

onto the street

the sun finally making

its grand entrance

letting the yellow stand out on its own

& the sugar maple coming home

     late

this year the whole world

must be watching

empty suits and stolen satchels

     ad nauseam

say something new already

waiting for the forest

     to rise

above the ashes

somewhere there's gotta be a rainmaker

the white pine

have shed their brown needles

it would appear now

in our ignorance

that all is well

--- e b bortz

earth note 832

the leaves are grudgingly

turning color

the avenue is in a morning rage

everybody seems to be drying out

for the weekend

crazy as it may seem

the lilacs are still blooming

--- e b bortz

earth note 831

bluster moving up

from the park maples

late afternoon yesterday

the crows had a sense of it

all heading toward

the furry south side slopes

where freight cars rattle

beneath the trestle

where the river winds

everything up

like the wind

screaming

--- e b bortz

earth note 830

i don't know where

the turquoise trail

begins or ends

if you follow the stone

the sky will eventually

show you the way

there's no heaven

hell

or purgatory

along the way

what is genuine

needs no polishing

a garden of the gods

has no private property

--- e b bortz