*
Front porch in flowers
Geraniums surround me
Wrapped in Karen’s arms
Jim Bodeen
28 April 2021
LAKE CROSSING
LAKE CROSSING
Old one, good old stone
Read the obituaries
Take the fast boat
Jim Bodeen
18 April 2021
Put it with roses
*
Put it with roses
Red wheelbarrow shows its rust
but the herald’s voice
Seven times seven foolish
All the old poems reborn
Jim Bodeen
21 April 2021
Walk April Garden
*
Walk April garden
with coffee in the red cup
gathering supplies
Jim Bodeen
18 April 2021
ON THE TENTH ANNIVERSARY OF OUR MOTHER'S CROSSING
On the Tenth Anniversary of Our Mother’s Crossing
Before leaving town
Saturday’s urgent beauty
Letters sent in mail
Jim Bodeen
11 April 2021
Hearing Karen Breathe
*
Hearing Karen breathe
How is it? I ask
I have to get up
Got to go to the bathroom
Otherwise I slept ok
Jim Bodeen
12 April 2021
EARLY LISTENING
EARLY LISTENING
Left hand on your breast
Elbow covering stomach
Right arm beneath you
My ear is a stethoscope
Intimate daily lifeline
Jim Bodeen
6 April 2021
AFTER-NOW
AFTER-NOW
No mumbling rebirth word talk
Build your own spring-like pathway
Jim Bodeen
4-8 April 2021
Cairn Prayer on Easter
*
Cairn prayer on Easter
Marking trees through wilderness
Three-stone temple talk
Jim Bodeen
4 April 2021
DOSTOEVSKY'S FAITH
*
Dostoevsky's faith
Even if it isn't true
I choose to believe
Non-utilitarian
Grace came to be well-travelled
Jim Bodeen
5 April 2021
INK IN SNOW
*
Couldn’t fix a thing
Couldn’t make it easier
mining hidden roots
Even notebooks aren’t diamonds
Treasure words line stone sidewalk
Jim Bodeen
2 April 2021
WHAT A DAY, THIS MOMENT
WHAT A DAY, THIS MOMENT
Misty, low visibility, sun
in back of it all, with seer light.
Change sun glasses for goggles
as lift operator hands me a chunk
of paraffin mixed with graphite.
Rub it on when snow gets soft out there
Stay safe. My Soul 7s,
powder ski gift of the son
on the mountain carry me.
The Great R imprint
on its tip, Mi Rocinante,
powder ride. Just after noon,
sun tipping towards west side
of Hogback Mountain, I ski
under red boundary rope loaded
with hoarfrost, a spectacle
stopping me before hiking.
Pure snow of pure land
Japanese Death Poems
from Samurai warriors
and night reading precursors
of Saigyo, Bashö, this
white walk songline ski
trek dream fragment
walking among tree stands
I’ve known thirty years.
Far enough now I get out
cameras, old standby Panasonic
video with wide angle lens
from when I had money
and an Iphone. Filming,
climbing. Pocket Rumi
from the backpack. Hold him
before the camera. Keep
climbing, keep descending,
feeling my way through trees
snow tracks as my way out,
guides at my back. Mathnawi
inside my covered eyes
Fasting is the first principle,
fast and hold, step fast, edge.
This hollowed out spot
opens a prayer camp
where I’ll unpack
the extra jacket--
blanket and table cloth--
apple, saltines, notebook.
Jim Bodeen
30 March 2021
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