O Lord!
Someone, stop it!
The thing I would end if I could but I can’t
because I am not in control. God,
help us. Why do you let this be?
For I have heard the roar of an inhale exhale human distress
twice. I have held despair that can’t get up
off my lap, have seen anguish,
and I do not have I can I should
not, not. I, why-Read More »
back forth in out
up slide down
the earth the moon the tide the waves
a tireless barista
wet dark sand beneath
white foam cappuccino
sea
always busyRead More »
No matter your imaginings and dreams,
gravity, a mere theory, not really proved,
preached by grown-ups, strikes you true-
You’ve never managed to fly away
or stop their pulling your feet back to
the ground, your head out of the clouds.
Your grown-ups haven’t stayed starry-eyed.
Danger, of course, you take as even less than theory-Read More »
I thought it was a picture,
and I wanted to turn it into a song,
so I kept trying to look and gaze it in,Read More »
Canoes tilt slightly beneath garbanzo bean clouds.
We try to hear the crickets, but the silence is too
loud. Pink sky over aquamarine
sea, and I don’t look at you. Astute.
Relaxation. You can be my eyes. Don’tRead More »
Tonight I am short on a way to say nothing
and lacking something
to say in some way,
and so my head turns to you,
breath caught
from the dawn of realization-
Haven’t you always spared coins
and dreams for me?Read More »
Drops fall in unison,
roaring on the roof like
a giant’s fan sent to cool the homestead off.
Meanwhile, the beads that fell first
splash into puddles and pots,
filling rows up when all they did was fall down.
The grey has never brightened your mood,
but I guzzle water.
You don’t see its point; You want
the sun to match the marigolds,Read More »
Confidence lies in the eyes of the matron,
down to earth, knowing
the grounds on which her legs
hold her up.
By the shore, her giving smile
shines like a lighthouse,
lets the drowning know that unlikeRead More »
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,
when honestly, it stands out-Read More »
Seen in the twilight,
the robin,
bouncing like quarter notes,
is blue as the walls in a boyhood bedroom,
and the ashen,
pewter, marbled squirrel,
arcing
as whole notes,
is blue as the moon’s backlit clouds,
their waves-
wisps reflecting
the midnight sky.
Alphabet Ravine 