Tuesday, November 24, 2009

mirror doesn't lie

no matter 
how long 
I hold my 

my reflection 

Poem  © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo  © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo of R. Baker taken by R. Baker

Saturday, November 21, 2009

horizon consumed

on the 

a tiny 
point of horizon
consumed the 

faster than
I could drive,

more quickly 
than the sun

in my

Poem © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo taken on Ontario  State Parkway, NY,
2009 by R. Baker.

years rounded

subdued light 
on faces at night

shines years rounded down;
a mediator between 
and not youth. 

at least

the bar 

red light bulbs 
hanging by wires:

the bar 
smoothes life
wrinkles of 

Poem "years rounded" © 2007 by R. Burnett Baker 
Poem "the bar" © 1988 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo by R. Baker© 2007

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Shoe Without

shoe without

this morning 
I was annoyed 
by a hole 
in my

today on 
the beach 
I found 
a shoe 
without a 

and cold

Poem © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo taken by R. Baker  on Lake Ontario, 
off Ontario State Parkway near Holley, NY, 
November 18,2009.
time for shadows

before I'm ready
a November sun 
is low on 
the day's horizon.

little time for 

little time for 
shadows or 

Poem © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2004 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo take by R. Baker in Redwood Forest, 
California, 2004. 
for tomorrow

don't know 
what you think
of me now,

when you think,
or if you do.
can't imagine 
not having you 

on my mind 
or in my plans 
for tomorrow 

or next week. 

for weeks
I've restrained
my impulse

to see you;

it's been months
since desire 
drove me 
from my 

I sleep soundly
not knowing. 

Poem © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Colorized photo taken by R. Baker of  an oil
on cardboard painting by Ina Jean Garner, circa 1980's.

affection's bondage

for so long I wrote of you;
of my self absorption with us

and now I write mostly of 
tulips, ducks, waking up to pee.

I think of you less often
and with little agony,
anxious only to understand 
why this is now so and 
how long it will last; 

how steadfastly I'll remain
liberated from affection's bondage,

and whether I'll be able to 
walk away from you 
next time we meet 

without lingering 
or looking 

Poem © 2007 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2008 by R. Burnett Baker 

Thursday, November 12, 2009

eyes falling

wither roses,
color maple leaves,
brittle the twigs
of trees shedding seasons;

time to steam 
cinnamon and cider
for chilled walks 
and frost-turning 

for eyes falling 
on night's 

Poem © 2007 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2007 by R. Burnett Baker 

Friday, November 6, 2009

red against snow 

I've never 
seen a 

in winter, 
red against 

I'll search
this year 

for that 
moment of
brilliance on 

Poem © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 

Snapping Up the Moment

It's a gray November day.  Finally I have time off from the madness of work.  At home there's a welcomed silence.  Today I saw the first snowflakes of the season taunting my dislike of what's to come in the months ahead:  The cold, the ice, the snow, and winds that suck the breath out of your soul.  

Windy autumn days are stripping leaves very quickly.  In summer I look out my bedroom window to see green leaves on old shade trees, and squirrels occasionally chasing each other across branches.  It occurs to me that I don't take advantage of that scene nearly enough. We're so quick to grab the camera and take hundreds of photos of colorful, dying leaves, snapping up the moment as if color will never behold us again.  

Yet, it's the same every year, every season.  A couple of years ago I was sitting at this very window in autumn and one squirrel was chasing life;  scrambling for food to store before there was none left. Looking out the window we came face to face: 

sat a squirrel 

on second floor branches 
outside my window 
sat a squirrel. 

the leafless tree 
and he 

staring at my face 
in disbelief. 

I suppose that's one reason we're compelled every autumn to snap photos of leaves:  Disbelief.  Disbelief that the rest of the year has been spent chasing life, and with little pause to let the silence nurture our souls year round.  Disbelief that the falling of autumn can be so brilliant and yet so swift.  

Camera or not:  We all need to be snapping up the moments every day.  And rather than chasing life, we should let life chase us. 

Rick B. Baker 
Rochester, NY 
November 6, 2009

one eye opened 

my face
ancient fresco

chiseled on 
a wall:

its story
known by 
chipped stone 

one eye 

to the ages. 

Poem © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Poem "sat a squirrel" © 2006 by R. Burnett Baker
homeless leaves



my solitude

by feet 

homeless leaves. 

Poem © 2009 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2006 by R. Burnett Baker 
Photo taken by R. Baker in Highland Park, 
Rochester, NY 2006.