1.
When rain stops
I find mushrooms
arranged in a ring.
The dead below us
raise open hands
in an alleluia dance.
Their white-nailed
fingers pierce dank
rotted leaves.
Each winter more friends
join mushroom spirals
of slow dancers.
As a frost moon rises
their circles festoon
even the distant hills.
2.
She said a few hours before death
You will write about this, won’t you.
Not a question.
3. Native Beliefs
When a good person dies
rains come to wash away
fingerprints and footprints.
Sorrows of this life fade.
When a good person dies
mist weeps from the sky.
Sparrows watch mourners
gather to sing and pray
when a good person dies.
When a good person dies
rain washes fingerprints
into the river’s peace.
2025