September 2026

ghosts of times gone long before 
irrupt in the modern psyche 
and seek new ground 
for grazing 

figures 
take shape 
become expression 
as the ground itself obtrudes 

mere marks on a chalkboard 
first [an illegible scrawl] 
then 
erased 
an attempt to suppress 
what is rising 
and now 
on fields made fertile 
by these underlying efforts 
life emerges 
real 
ineluctable 
the poetic image 

This is the seventh pairing in Confluence, a series of poems written in response to original photographs.

I began writing these during the pandemic, using the pictures I was making at the time. I have continued this practice ever since, always writing in response to my most recent images.

I publish a new Confluence every new moon and every time the luminary dyad perfects a trine.

Red Light, Green Light 

Or: How to Inhabit the Fourth Dimension 
 (an image from the winter solstice) 


waiting all winter 
for the new life of spring 

boarded up 

dreaming 

still 

you can see it, though, can't you? 

the once bare branches now covered in green 
obscuring the view of what was a vacant building 
the smell of sawdust and the sound 
of power tools filter through 
the plywood windows 

what at the start of winter 
bore no sign of new growth 
held within it all the same 
the potential for change 

the work of life resumes 
as resources become available 
whether by following existing paths 
or by creating new ways where 
before there were none 

for that is the secret of life 
which is not secret at all 

life continues 
in spirited disregard 
for obstacles and the frustrations 
of mere circumstance 

just as a baby bird 
needs to find its own way 
out of the egg that encloses it 
life thrives not only in spite of obstacle 
but as a direct result of transcending the same 

always dreaming itself into being, 
life is always becoming 
this inexhaustibly 
new world 

This is the sixth pairing in Confluence, a series of poems written in response to original photographs.

I began writing these during the pandemic, using the pictures I was making at the time. I have continued this practice ever since, always writing in response to my most recent images.

I publish a new Confluence every new moon and every time the luminary dyad perfects a trine.

Tilt 

soften your gaze 
looking down 
at the sky 
if you want to see 
into its depths 

piercing eyes only glance 
off the surface 

and will leave you 

where you began: 
the real world 

magic there is impossible 
unbelievable: 
unreal 

tilt your head
just right, though 
and drop down 
off of that high horse 

the one bequeathed to you 
the one fed on received opinion 

maybe you will meet some 
other world unknown 
unimaginable 
unavailable to you 
until you enter frame 

This is the fifth pairing in Confluence, a series of poems written in response to original photographs.

I began writing these during the pandemic, using the pictures I was making at the time. I have continued this practice ever since, always writing in response to my most recent images.

I publish a new Confluence every new moon and every time the luminary dyad perfects a trine.