Clyde Sanborn rolled downstream like a tsunami of
moonbeams, leaving in his wake (before he returned to
the Source) these floating islands of luminous
mud-monk, jug-monk poesy.
                                  -- Tom Robbins
After reading aloud his poem "Flash Flood", Clyde once
said, "Sometimes I write a poem and sometimes one writes
me.  That poem wrote me."  Clyde wrote a lot of poems
in his life, usually on scraps of paper and cocktail
napkins, which he would give away as gestures of
friendship.  This book is a collection of those poems,
assembled by his friends.
Born and raised in Stockton, California, Clyde served
in the Navy in Japan, where he was introduced to Zen
Buddhism.  In 1977 he settled down on the banks of the
Skagit River, living quietly and simply in houseboats,
sheds, tents, floatshacks.  He painted and wrote poems,
observed nature and visited with his many friends, both
riverrats and townsfolk.  On March 15, 1996, at the age
of 47, while rowing, he drowned near his home on the
When Clyde's death came -- suddenly, like a flash flood
-- the need arose to try to salvage some of the flotsam
and jetsam of his poetry.  I want to thank the many
people who did so much to help bring these poems together.
Some -- like Robert Sund, Paul Hansen and Clifford Burke
-- gave valued advice.  Others -- like Jim Smith and
Steve Herold -- donated hours of skillful work.  Clyde's
family -- Chris, Roger and Jan Sanborn and Gwen Wilson
-- provided impetus to the project.  And then, of course,
there's all of you who found these gifts from Clyde and
sent them on to me to be included in this book.  May they
help us remember Clyde and his gentle exhortation to
Ben Munsey
La Conner, Washington
July 26, 1997