Guitar

Ode To The Book

Adivinanza De La Guitarra

The Guitar-La Guitarra

Broderet paa et Guitarbaand

La Paloma In London

The Man With The Blue Guitar

The Moon Of The Home

Difficultly Pretty

Things Just Keep A Turning Round

The Silverspoon

Nimbused Nomads

Don’t Hurt My Eyes

Baby On A Guitar

Dust In My Wind

The Wonder Of Each Rose

Who Could Have Anticipated?

There’s A Woman In The Doorway

Blackberries And Salmon

And Should I Ask Forgiveness

Existing Nocturnally In A Covert Hole In The Dark

The Night That Heals The Broken Day

I Have Seen The Stiff, Brittle Leaf

Comet In The West Just After Sunset

The Snow A Silence Whiter Than Last Night

Eleven Seas Of Awareness In Every Drop

What’s Beyond The Truth Always Makes A Lie

Music On The Wind Even In The Ashes Of The Sky Burial

Been Down This Road So Long

Because I’Ve Become Aware Of

Because I’Ve Become Aware Of

This Or That Delusional Choice

I Could Never Remember You In Garish Pacific Sunsets

A Nick Of The Moon

The River An Old Waltz On The Dance Card Of The Stars

O, Yes, The Stillness Comes All In One Wave, One Caress

In An Old Town By The Sea (Llastres, Asturias,2001)

Staring Into The Future

A Paint Rag Of The Masterpiece I Used To Be

Silence, Most Eloquent Ghost Of My Oceanic Emotions

Time To Stop Dying And Praise The Sky

Wilder Times Than We Thought They Were In The Moment

I Belong To An Invisible Cult Of The Air

I Was Thinking About Absurdity, The Unnamed Muse

If You Look Upon A Puddle Of Starmud As A Degenerate Third Eye

Even Sisyphus Stands Back Amazed

If You Were To Ask Me

Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump

Witching The Silence Over The Cauldron Of The Town

Whenever I Remember You

The Rain Makes The Night Look Blacker

More And More I Realize I’Ve Never Been

The Little Noise I’Ve Made Over Fifty Years Of Writing

Looking For An Orbit In The Ripples Of Rain At Midnight

I Can See The Love And The Loss In Your Green, Green Eyes Again

The Dark God Flow Of Our Circuitous Blossomings

Deep Enhancement. Dark Wound

On Retreat In An Old Town By The Sea

You Found Me Wanting And You Left

Foxfire Blooming In The Afterbirth Of The Ashes

The Attrition Of Poets Is Not Like The Autumn Leaves