Outside Port Angeles

Snow falls on the ocean
and approaches the cedars on land.

The mud at the side of a stream
that enters the ocean hardens by freeze.

Deer birds big cats hide themselves
as the fall thickens, speckles my line of sight.

I brought you here
into these ancient woods

under these conditions
thinking it might change you.

Foolish me.
But not disappointed

at your requests to go home
and make hot chocolate

for a seat by the hearth
to watch the dancing flames.

The snow collects on your long hair
scarf and shoulders.

I appreciate such beauty
and your bothered brown eyes.

You call out to our dog Home!
so she would know

we turned around
even though she was out of sight

bounding though the trees after a rabbit
not letting any snow collect on her back.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Among Cedars

Dora stands among cedars.
Snow falls.

Too sentimental.
Too beautiful

to become a poem
today.

A cargo ship in Puget Sound
passes behind her.

The city skyline
takes shape across the water.

It intrudes on the island.
Dora looks past it to the Cascades.

The passenger ferry intrudes as well.
Its port is several miles north.

We have hours.
It is best when

we stand together
among cedars

and the world melts away
under falling snow.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Lay To Rest

A bagpipe’s call
wends its way
through cedars
and fog
to my porch
where I cut my hair
with clippers
and a quarter inch
guide.

Forgive me
my selfish interests
and petty happiness
both of which
passed through
the shredder
this morning.

Draped
over a chair
my white shirt
does not signal
surrender.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney