901 North J Street Tacoma

909 North J Street (office)


Past Blues Poetry

New Year Blues Poetry

The Bright Field

By R. S. Thomas

I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have 
to possess it. Life is not hurrying

on to a receding future, no hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning 
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you. 



Grace Pauley

Here I am in the garden laughing
an 0ld woman with heavy breasts
and a nicely mapped face

how did this happen
well that's who I wanted to be

at last a woman
in the old style sitting
stout thighs apart under
a big skirt grandchild sliding
on off my lap a pleasant 
summer perspiration

that's my old man across the yard
he's talking to the meter reader
he's telling him the world's sad story
how electricity is oil or uranium
and so forth I tell my grandson
run over to your grandpa and ask him
to sit beside me for a minute I 
am suddenly exhausted by my desire 
to kiss his sweet explaining lips.