Mind, Body, and Spirit
From the deafening roar and G-forces of takeoff to the decades-long glide path to my destination, I make corrections …Read the poem
Wordtreasure
From the Blog
Poetry as a spiritual practice. David Baldwin has posted 162 poems here since 2022, many of them later gathered into Wheel of Water.
The Blackouts
She wasn’t a Joe Sixpack drinker consuming alcohol with gusto or quietly sipping bourbon or wine or both at all hours like my dad.Read the poem
Betrayal
for my daughter’s first husbandRead the poem
Chapel of the Transfiguration
The first thing I saw was the constellation of houseflies on the Chapel of the Transfiguration window blocking the grandeur of the Cathedral Group with Grand Teton in the center. The fly was the filthiest of creatures to my fastidious eye. I was offended at first: the sacred was marred by the profane. …Read the poem
The Midwatch
Lieutenant Fallon goes over the log as I assume the midnight watch. He heads for his rack in officer's country. I'll be here until oh four hundred.Read the poem
Excuses
We waste a lot of time making excuses. The Bible is full of them. Some are good like Moses saying, correctly, he is not eloquent. The Lord enlists brother Aaron to speak for him, and that is enough to do the job. …Read the poem
[tanka]
lost mojo on the Red Line a sweet face no opportunity for meRead the poem
For the Love of Flight
Precision tree swallows black silhouettes against the dishwater cloud bank rise like a school of fish high above the wetlands …Read the poem
To the Young Ravens
The young ravens in the nest are nearly grown. They are dull black with patches of gray and white. They flex their wing muscles intermittently, but they know not yet what the wings are for.Read the poem
Cultivating Stillness
A shallow mind is never still. A compulsive need for constant stimulation ensures a state of constant agitation.Read the poem
The Logic of Athletics
He challenged the ice in canyons silvergreen. He challenged the heat, one hundred plus, to chase the best of men. He challenged the raving rain, thunderously applauding. The gladness of the race was always there, but those who saw his face, …Read the poem
[tanka]
she is the wind she cares for nothing… he is the grass; he cannot move without herRead the poem
