mosaic around irises,
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glowing between eyelashes
green, gold, yellow, and brown,
like fresh leaves on autumn ground
each glance I give:
my heart’s footprints
Clustered leaves form a nest for the cloud
as I lie below, the tree’s outstretched arms
strengthened and still, waiting for the sky’s crown
to up and flit away, as I sit upon the tree’s feet
like a second weight, fragile as a burden,
heavy as royalty.
Leaves fall like flowers with sharp edges on Christmas cards
that masquerade as snowflakes while I sit here,
the rush of the seat of my kitchen chair a nice distraction, prickling my hands
as the water running by pricks my feet.
My fiber seat imagines it’s the rush of the stream,
that the center tying it all together is the liquid’s bellybutton.
But honestly, it stands out-Read More »
months bent sweating in the field
harvest pumpkins for a gift
given with cold final kiss
as green leaves fell down