Let’s forget the echoes of my thirtieth year for there’s refuge in the night and the moon. Moonlit night where imagination stretches starward. Moonlit night where my name falls off like an autumn leaf. Moonlit night where I’m a sapling attune to winter wind. Moonlit night where my past hibernates, ant-sized.Read more "Pandora’s Moon"
We only say it correctly when we’re learning to spell it, a hint of brew, this month more soft-spoken than the last, and short – though Valentine roses’ petals fall before ice melts. Oh, some whisper it as a synonym for claustrophobia, closing down or slamming doors so fast that cold lurks abandoned out there where invisibles moan and something smelly hides under the front steps.Read more "February"
I wonder who lives in the house With the bright red chimney, someone must For on cold winter mornings Smoke bellows from the stack And the smell of freshly baked bread Stops me in the thaw and snap So, I linger for a moment And stare at this dreamy abode Lit by the soft edges of snow clouds And the sun a pale embroidered gold ‘All is well with the world’ then I say to myself All is well in the house with the red chimneyRead more "Red Chimney"
This rain pounds the arch hall with a glass roof, vexations of puddles over and above the axles, no time to witness how slowly the tulip emerges in curled lips like cups. Chills of wet hair.Read more "For the Young Who Are Afraid"
You see power lines and I see twilight clinging to itself. You see a cardinal and call it a representative and I say visitant and eventually we agree on angel.Read more "The Theory of Electromagnetism"
Much must. Old nut bearers, leaf returners. Old man forest and his just sprung wife. I have faith in those wild orange day lilies and forsythia, but Black-eyed Susans and stargazers have fooled me before.Read more "What Will Winter Over?"
I cradle an ornament that holds infinity in my hand a small blue angel carved out of wood meticulously painted in a life lived long ago. Scents of Bavarian pine, black forests that are silent, darkly deep with the residue of Rosstal.Read more "Lights"
We were frozen stumbling and bumbling your hand on my thigh my leg on yours holding tight as we hurled down that hillside on a rustic red slide not knowing we would have this moment to savor for so many walks to come before full time work and grad school one, two, then three bundles of infinite intensity.Read more "small hands"
Williams I stole a book or two in my time— from a room where it bided unread winter and winter came Williams, came that greeny asphodel; unknown then to me in my darkness, how it bloomed when I brought it out, modestly, continuously, met me long years away with waves of renewed waking, a kind […]Read more "Williams"
The High Place How many winters gone And how many remain? I’ve seen seedlings Grow to be masts of great ships Felled by men with rum-warmed Bellies Into gentle beds of Evergreen boughs How many more times Will the tamarack fade into A golden amber bouquet That reminds me of the many Sorrows of being […]Read more "The High Place"