July 9, 2012On Being Invited to Submit Poems ‘Written in the Manner of the Ancient Chinese Mountain Recluse Poets’
From my windows on this hill,
Fidalgo Bay, green islands, pale blue sky
and, far off, Koma Kulshan, crowned
with icy snow—first and only words
I know in the Lummi tongue.
Thirty-five years in the woods,
watching the tree-trunks thicken.
And now this view, this vision.
from #36 - Winter 2011