Machine generated contents note: What My Father Did Not Have to Say --
The Name of the Father, the Name of the Fish --
House With No Light Left On Inside It --
Everything Where I Have Left It --
I Take a Walk With the Gods --
Brothers and Fathers and Sons --
Who Walks in the Rain Walks On water --
The Dark Above the River is Light --
South of White Rock, Lake Huron, July 1979 --
What the Birds Keep Trying to Tell Him --
More Birds Than I Know What to Do With --
I Did What I Could to Keep This --
Because I Could Not Sing --
The Song and the river --
On the Island in Search of My father --
I Did Not Hear the Loons Until Later --
A Portrait of My Father At the End as Sisyphus --
Where There is a River There is a Light --
Too Many Days, or Where the River Turns to Lake --
When It is Dark Enough to See --
Still Life in Winter with River Ice and Sky --
Skin of River and Bone --
Walking Out Alone onto the February River --
We Did Not Know the Difference --
I Am Tempted to Say I Know Nothing --
We Just Wanted to Get Him Home --
The Bird Inside My Fathers chest --
What I Know is Not My Father --
What Was Never his to Begin With --
When No One Was Looking I looked --
What in the Night the Moon makes --
When the Light is Still Present but Fading --
The Sentence I Am Trying Not to Write --
Slow Dance With My Father With No music --
Still Life with Goose in Mid-Flight --
On My Morning Walk I Question What I See --
Fishing in the Rain with My Father --
Under the Hood of My Father's '89 Lincoln Town Car --
On What Would Have Been My Fathers Eighty-Seventh Birthday --
In the Twilight the Something That is Always there --
This Water, This Rock and Dirt, This river --
On My Daughter's Twenty-Third Birthday --
What is Always There Even When It isn't --
Where What Was Still Alive Was Singing --
We Looked for the Birds to Tell Us --
When the Loons Return to the River --
What a Fish is Not Supposed to See --
In a Poem He Might Praise the birds --
What I Still Feel Inside, or Some Other Darkness --
When Our Fathers Return to Us as Birds --
There is Always Some Other Way to Say It --
What Did I Know about Work --
Whatever It Was It Was an Honor, Call It a Privilege --
What We Cant Get rid Of --
In Greek the Word for Forgiveness --
Only the River Between Us --
Fear and Death Which is Different Than Fear of Death --
I Am Afraid I Am Going to forget --
On the Other Side of the River --
So Much of What We No Longer Want --
On the River With Time Being What it Is --
Tell That to Our Fathers, or On the Eve of My Fifty-Third Birthday, Pointe Mouillee, 2019 --
Briefly It Might Have Even flown.