Here is a good link for publications on the net (and print):

www.clmp.org

Acquaintance With Time

I saw her face, Time, so quiet and still.
I passed before her on the grass,
I did not know it was her until,
my watch moved slow as melting glass,
glass that I wished that I could fill.
She spoke to me; no words I heard,
for her beauty was bright to see,
I could not speak but a word,
my mind fluttering like a frigid bird,
and then she walked away from me,
and I could speak again at will.

Ode To Spring's Lament

It is springtime; the sky is bluer than
the blue upon which I see
Heaven's clouds.

In the thawness of an old winter, we
weep words no one else can hear;
our hidden heartache is steady.

It is always springtime when
darkness blooms.
I call Ode to your sweet
lips,

Ode to the crowd of the unlamented eye,
Ode to bliss which comes
straight from Heaven.
Lilacs bloom on garden walls;
it is Springtime.
Hear the birds twitter at dusk.

-From my chapbook, Winter's Light