Activities of C.D. Sinex

A blue winter sky—
Do three geese on the river
mean spring has arrived?
...

A letter came with
your return address in ink.
A blue envelope
no doubt to remind me of
...

You'd give me poems
and I'd sometimes write one back.
After class you'd say,
"Here, read this and let me know."
...

The songbirds are back—
The young ones have already
learned the ancient tunes
...

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
...

The songbirds are back—
The young ones have already
learned the ancient tunes
...

Carved into the Vermont wilderness, my old cabin's become a deer hunter's camp, used only a few weekends a year in fall. The rest of the time it sits sad, dark, and lonely. The vegetable garden, once a source of pride, has been reclaimed by the forest. The asparagus, unharvested, still flowers each summer.

Full of memories-
Walking on the unworn path
...

Carved into the Vermont wilderness, my cabin's become a deer hunter's camp, used only a few weekends a year in fall. The rest of the time it sits sad, dark, and lonely. The vegetable garden, once a source of pride, has been reclaimed by the forest. The asparagus, unharvested, still flowers each summer.
Full of memories-
Walking on the unworn path
that once led me home
...

The songbirds are back—
The young ones have already
learned the ancient tunes
...

I heard your fiddle.
Bow ensnarled in raven hair.
The last song we wrote.
With neither bang nor whimper. (1)
...