Settling In Gently by R.A.Davis

Death is Stop It's a shock every time how complete the end is no loose ends for the dead. They left their luggage on the train. I have not cried enough for my grandma So last night I dreamed her funeral again  every pulpit talk and choir and cried "I don't believe it" I sobbed to my dad in the pew as I dreamed him grieving, too. I dream often of Rising tides Salt water lifting its soft cheeks up towards the sky the moon leaning down like a grandmother to kiss

I toss a coin in the air on a bright day It flies in the face of gravity Catches and throws back the light in rapid flashes Coin-glints are a tiny winking sun, too bright for eyes. Dark-light, dark-light, a short flight one thing or another. The dark face, the bright tail The blue shadow side opposite the blind-bright metal part two sides make one arc against the sky I feel launched into coin-flight Good-bad, good-bad flickering a binary That in the speed of time arcs towards sky then earth and makes one new thing, the flight is both light and dark.

It's Valentine's again time to lay down the law. no long-stemmed roses. no garish birds of paradise or alien heliconias no heart-shaped coffins for sicky-sweet cherry cordial chocolates no pre-filled cards a general ban on all things red and pink. no fancy over-sauced restaurant meals not a drop of cheap champagne All I need is a mountain a river a lifetime. That's all.

I'm on a tropical island with you. Whales breach, dolphins spin, seals sun themselves, turtles surface.. We could go beach... The canyon is every shade of red and orange and green-- waterfalls are white streaks on cliff faces rainbows arch into the misty sky... We could go mauka... Friends and family throng the pavilions at the beach, barbecue smoke and sunset ocean views, Slippers in a sandy pile, fish sizzling in the wok oil wooden hashi snap and scrape We could go party... But let's us You and I Stay home Light the candles And keep the noise outside at bay. (Another class assignment! This one is based on "In Paris with You" by James Fenton, which is a funny anti-romantic poem about all the things the author will NOT be doing Paris. My prompt to the students was-- Write a love poem about all the things you DON'T want to do.)

On Avoidance My to-do checklist multiplies like protozoa osmosises and mitosises into       things to procure       things to discard       debts to pay       mundane tasks The list glares at me from my phone       an unblinking eye             a high pitched tinnitus of             adult obligations.       so I subvert my list,             add nonsense: "sit in the sun: five minutes." "sample 3 kinds of chocolate." "draw a seabird." "sketch a mad genius." So between the sandpaper-on-bone tasks       of "callthebank" I can dutifully check off whimsey accomplish nonsense procrastinate responsibly       and with great satisfaction             avoid the doing by doing       and play a counter-harmony ...

Heaven + Hell are estranged sisters eyeing each other across uncrossable distances. Each gathers her allies    mutters darkly about the other.    Envy might glint, sometimes, in their eyes. Heaven plants her roots, sends up fronds    sweet green shoots    and harvests ripe. Hell skims lightly over the world    undoes bindings. Heaven seals     with honey and wax. Hell dissolves,     molecules sigh into their component parts. Heaven keeps a tidy yard,    bakes fresh bread,    remembers. Hell, she walks out the gate,    leaves salty footprints (no backward glance)    in her wake.    She forgets. (From a classroom prompt based on X. J. Kennedy's fantastic poem, "Nothing in Heaven Functions as it Ought." I had the kids brainstorm connotations and denotations of heaven and hell, and compare them to the Hawaiian concept of the afterworld, Keao...

   The hollows and rough edges on elm trees    the startled up-look of a deer    the shallow whisper of the creek Come with me and see!    200 tones of green    from emerald to scum whitegreen underside of oak-leaf greenblack shine of dogwood slick green rocks softgreen moss    Come with me    lift the stones suddenly      if the crawdads    will startle us    prod the soft rotten log come with me and    whisper secret names into the hollows    half-glimpse fairies    half-hear gnomes Come and follow the narrow path Swing a stick-sword    swoop away the spiderwebs or else they'll snag our mouths and eyes invisibly tiny spiders jeweling us Come and hear the complete quiet    the hush of high-up branches in the air    the careful step of our own small feet over the earth Come and greet the forest o...