In Memory of William J. Higginson

A wet night

     garbage cans all full

     but the far one 1969

The clock

    chimes chimes and stops

        but the river . . . 1969

Holding the water

   held by it—

      the dark mud. 1970

caterpillar

atop the rock

the rising tide 1971

evening star

almost within

the moon’s half curve 1971

this spring rain

the thief too

curses his job 1972

grey dawn

ice on the seats

of the rowboat 1982

the tick, tick

of snow on the reeds . . .

sparrow tracks 1989

New Year’s Eve . . .

thieves have left my car open

in the falling snow 1994

commercial break—

the cat and I

head for the kitchen 1999

the fence post

hangs upright in the washout—

mid-summer heat 1999

going over a bump

the car ahead

going over a bump 1999

the old cat

hesitates on the doorsill—

a falling leaf 2001

summer storm . . .

a shopping cart rolls past

the end of the lot 2002

winter twilight

only a few old bakers

in the potato bin 2004

crescent moon

would I look at the clouds

without it? 2004

Books and Writing

I look up

from writing

to daylight. 1970

writing again

the tea water

boiled dry 1986

reading renku—

every stanza links with

the midwinter cricket 1991

thankful for

the books just received . . .

snow piling up 1997

musty smell

forgotten . . . deep

into the text 1997

spring rain

rereading my own book

I fall asleep 2005

Aging

Christmas concert

I sit in the seat of my

hospitalized friend 1993

misty rain—

dry pavement under

the ambulance 2004

fireworks crashing

and fireflies so silent . . .

tomorrow the biopsy 2005

one maple leaf . . .

end over end on the sand

without a trace 2004