Clouds, leaves, waves. A Poem

I started to write a poem that took it's form from reading through old notebooks I kept daily:

My friend David Shapiro urged me on and later Harold Bloom added a preface.

It was published by Turtle Point Press in 1996.

I'll include some excerpts:



The lagoon at night opens
upon the beach and stars.

A storm across the point
has knocked down trees
in the Magic Forest.
Waving branches are silver
lit by the moon.
Jovan drums a rhythm as
displaced fumes of oil flow.
Cormorants shiver in glimmering light.
Black rocks, hissing waves,
long grey clouds, reflect greenness
from the depths below.

Seaweed floats upward
to breathe at the surface.



*Jovan was a oil tanker moored off shore which emitted fumes that sickened us even though the smell was faintly romantic.