Tom Stock

Poet, Essayist, Photographer, Naturalist

Month: October 2017

Fire – the poem

A frozen stream from

A magnesium rim

Meandered on the ground

From the scorched hulk of a car

In Santa Rosa, California.

Abandoned when a wall of flame

Rushed in and past

They ran to safety

Just in time

There were many other

“Just in time” stories

Relentless winds turned up the heat

Burning, melting, destroying

This was no volcano, tornado

Hurricane, tsunami

Fire. fire, fire

With heat so high

It vaporized almost everything

In its path

Where a house was

A second later…

Rubble with only a

A fireplace left standing

Fiery embers lifted into the smoke

Orange-yellow specks

Wiggling in darkness

To land and ignite new hungry flames

A conflagration that turned

Almost everything to ash

That will drift afar

To fertilize its’ simple molecules

Left from that complicated,

Interconnected world                                                        tom stock

Lunch – Babylon Overlook Beach

It only took about ten seconds for a herring gull to snap up a crust from my sandwich. Ten seconds later, two more gulls winged in. Things are tough for sea gulls. The alpha gull chased the other always and waited. I tossed another peace. Bingo! In less than a second, the gull grabbed and swallowed. There’s no time to wait. This is survival. The bird was ultra patient. It hung around for a half hour before it left. No more bread I’m outta here. Looking head on, gulls have huge mouths. They are swallowing machines.

Read More

Notice o All 8 Digits – a poem

Both hands and their fingers

And thumbs

Can drum on a hollow surface

When boredom wants something to do

Those vice grip thumbs

Ready to help their partners

Eight fidgety fingers

Each with their own little brain

So many things they can do

How about make a basket?

Train your fingers to make something useful

Keep up the good work

Keep those nails clean and trimmed

Don’t forget your fingers

Where would you be with even one missing digit?

You are incredible

You do a thousand things

Without us even thinking

They are so automatic

Good job fingers

Good job


Tom Stock – basket and mat maker

Visit To Robert Moses State Park: October 2, 2017

Four birdwatchers perch on an elevated platform observing and counting migrating hawks. The air is clean and cool. A gentle sea breeze lazes north. Balmy full afternoon sunshine – a fine early fall day.

The bay is flat; the ocean casts 12 inch breakers on the sand. The sand is glistening light tan and fine. Robert Moses is one of the finest beaches in the world.

Read More

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén