The Bellagio casino glimmers
above a round blue lake.
Outside the Tropicana
waterfalls pour over fake rocks.
All night under the desert moon
the profligate water splashes,
sparkling like silver coins.
Four hundred miles south
three braceros lie down to die
beside empty plastic bottles.
It’s All A Mystery I look around It’s all confusion different stories from all directions what can anyone believe turning in circles dizzy and lost in a fog I can never see through it to the truth that is just on the other side can anyone tell me what is what
A Friend in Montana shares verses on a wide range of subjects, including silence, death, poetry, and eggs.
We gather the children, the tender and shy, the mischievous, lead them to a jagged beach to find their treasures of stillness while their own parents settle into the meetinghouse to gather Light. We let the children wander between piers, time dissolving into moistness. One boy with purple