This morning, of all the mornings, the moon woke me. I followed the light
The river slides a silver seam through town. Bank-side blooms lift their faces to its crown. Spring threads a thin, shy gold along the ledge. Petals spill like small, bright coins upon the silted edge.
You- pulling confetti from ordinary mornings, and your laugh that can rearrange the furniture of my day. You- turn long roads into alleyways of stories-
Affection, like tinder, kindles quickly. Left free,
I walk out to the weekends’ night sounds. Mostly stale stillness broken only by
Lost by design, or by a paper crease? You folded south into a new direction— a river swallowed the road’s thin voice, The compass shrugged and chose the wrong horizon.
The oblation of my existence- A mother who languished to love me A sordid paternal story My providence-
Not Fit for Purpose A poet writes her name on the back of a breeze,
Remind me- of Friday night parade rains or antique engines’ stutter. Describe how- the air hangs with roasted beef, fried dough, and the stale yeastiness of the beer pit.
Remind me- of Friday night parade rains or antique engines’ stutter. Describe how- the air hangs with roasted beef, fried dough, and the stale yeastiness of the beer pit.
Some time, I am still that small child, playing in my room, creating a life where the dog never dies. Where everything stays just as it should.
Restless? No, I need to rest more In these wee hours of this morn If I was a betting girl, boy, I’d say we should
Restles? No, I need to rest more In these wee hours of this morn If I was a betting girl, boy, I’d say we should
I lean into language like a storm-struck tree in our woods. Limbs fall to the fern floor as
Bent backs Soil stained knees Direct seeding Hope
Little You needed space and a fair amount of grace to take those Big Ideas
Je t’aime une rose En l'été Avec la chaleur. Mais rien ne se compare à Le chaleur
A Stiff Word Poems take the most raw words, kink them just so
My meadow is a memory caught between moon rises and the chorus of peepers. Fuzzy at first, I close my eyes
Pump pump pump Nothing. Pump pump pump Nothing. Crumpled metal was one option