My Poems in The Heron’s Nest

The following are all of my poems published in The Heron’s Nest, from 1999 to today (most recent provided first). I’m grateful to a long line of editors for selecting these poems, many of which I count among my very best.

year of the armadillo—

my daughter’s zodiac

in crayon

XXIV:1, March 2022

reaching to the back

of the empty mailbox

summer sunset

XXIII:4, December 2021

carpet patterns his retirement speech

XXIII:3, September 2021


out of its skin

out of itself

XXIII:1, March 2021

toboggan run—

I discover

my coccyx

XXII:4, December 2020

after the popsicle the popsicle stick

XXII:3, September 2020

silent night—

the bell choir bells

at rest in velvet

XXI:3, September 2019

spring lightning—

a flower’s shadow

against the fortress wall

XIX:3, September 2017

muddy trail—

every now and then

a peanut shell

XVIII:4, December 2016

spring walk—

the train trestle

and its many shadows

XVIII:3, September 2016

unsold pumpkins—

straw from the store display

trails out the door

XVIII:3, September 2016


the skull of something

in the crawlspace

XVIII:2, June 2016

ferry gift shop—

all the tourist mugs

gently clinking

XVII:1, March 2015

from the ocean

to her moat

a bucket mostly spilled

XVII:1, March 2015

tonight’s stars—

how long will it take

for my light to reach them?

XV:2, June 2013

night crossing—

salt spray rises

up through the anchor hole

XII:4, December, 2010

loons scattering . . .

a floatplane touches down

into summer

XII:4, December, 2010

a still, starry night—

train tracks

wet with dew

X:4, December, 2008

“On the Other Side, In Memory of Bob Major”

X:3, September, 2008 (memorial haibun)

the kite’s tail

ripped from knotty branches—

mockingbird song

IX:3, September, 2007

“Kay F. Anderson, Life-Dancer”

IX:2, June, 2007 (memorial haibun)

ripples in the tidepool—

a quieter ocean

in my child’s shell

IX:2, June, 2007

drifting cherry petals . . .

a window goes up

in the passing limousine

IX:1, March, 2007

blue September sky—

the wordless things

we want to know

VIII:4, December, 2006 (memorial poem for Francine Porad)

beached kelp—

we examine each other’s

life lines

VIII:1, March, 2006

fog . . .

just the tree

at the bus stop

VII:4, December, 2005 (memorial poem for Jerry Kilbride)

Remembrance Day—

my insignificant wince

at the misdirected poppy pin

VII:4, December, 2005

Christmas Eve—

bits of a price sticker

stuck to my finger

VII:3, September, 2005

her last breath . . .

the strings vibrating

on her dusty harp

VII:1, March, 2005 (memorial poem for Elizabeth Searle Lamb)

crackling beach fire—

we hum in place of words

we can’t recall

VI:11, December, 2004 (Editor’s Choice poem)

dwindling fire—

our conversation shifts

to death

VI:9, October, 2004

leaves turning—

the toboggan hanging

in the dark garage

VI:8, September, 2004

tax audit—

dents in damp grass

from the mower’s wheels

VI:6, July, 2004

apples picked

and the casket chosen—

lingering sunset

VI:5, June, 2004

tripod holes

in the creekside mud—

Yosemite dawn

VI:4, May, 2004

day labourers

gathered at the Goodwill—

the dripping awning

VI:3, April, 2004

starry starry night—

unfinished art school paintings

in the dumpster

VI:2, March, 2004

frosted windows—

my weight

still on the gym scale

VI:1, January, 2004

bookmobile day—

huckleberries bloom

along the white picket fence

V:12, December, 2003

my neighbor’s bicycle

locked to the fence—

drifting plum petals

V:11, November, 2003

quiet afternoon—

leaves on her desk

arranged by colour

V:10, October, 2003

twilight lingers . . .

from the wrecking yard

flash of a blowtorch

IV:12, December, 2002 (reprinted in this issue, in print and online)

IV:10, October 2002 (in the online version but accidentally omitted from the print edition)

a skipping stone

strikes the moored sailboat . . .

autumn drizzle

IV:11, November, 2002

summer afternoon—

the soda’s sound

changes as I drink

IV:7, July, 2002

cool summer night—

a full moon

frames the bird feeder

IV:6, June, 2002

a rest by the stream—

burrs on the tongue

of my tennis shoe

IV:5, May, 2002

track meet—

a few grains of sand

in the drinking fountain

IV:3, March, 2002

dew on the morning paper—

grass blades


IV:2, February, 2002

dew drop

on a dusty grass blade . . .

the ant backs up

II:10, October, 2000

noon sun

picnic cheese


II:7, July, 2000

distant traffic hum—

the stone buddha’s

moss-filled crevice

II:6, June, 2000

summer clouds—

a child scatters popcorn

on the fish pond

II:6, June, 2000

lazy day—

our wrist watches

on the ice chest

II:5, May, 2000

a leaf falls

from the greenhouse ficus

clap of thunder

I:4, December, 1999