Incidentals
Sun lights the morning
with mild warmth when I gather the dogs
and go outside to feed the chickens.
Fava plants open blossoms like butterflies,
pink and white with velvet black tongues
offering a faint lilac scent when I bend close.
Category / Poetry
After Dinner, Atlantis
A wine glass sinks, tolling,
an undersea village bell
All Souls
The moon had us hoodwinked,
escaping through the branches,
Oaks Invite Analogies
to sprout take root
grow through many seasons
like a human learning how to be –
the many blows absorbed
the reaching for the sky
The Dream in which Mom Says Just Before Dying, Blink and You Will Miss Me
I believe you’re still asleep
in the next room. Soon you will
shake me awake to deliver
the news to neighbors.
Of Blood and Air (a golden shovel)
I have no memory of when I became aware I was one—
singular, apart, not-mother. On that day
did I feel fear or exultation?
Re-reading My Friend Flicka
I know this boy,
his unhappiness, his stern father,
quiet mother in the kitchen.
What he wants, more than anything,
is a horse of his very own.
Latch Key for Boys
I told my brother that the BB I was going to fire
at him, from our second story window, wouldn’t hurt,
that his layers would protect him from the sting.
And I imagine him, now, walking into drizzle,
a desperate wonder wrapped around him
Continue reading… "Latch Key for Boys"Birth Announcement
Let’s begin with her feet. Ten proper toes
pressed into pink ink then pressed again on one
side of a small card—two tender rhodies
determined to root in the heavy dark of a Port Orford winter.
The first question I ask the nurse is not is it a boy
Continue reading… "Birth Announcement"Your Eyes Are Not a Camera Drone
Cactus bee
and white-winged dove pollinate by day
Long-nosed bats
swarm the blooms each night
The blossoms become ripe red fruit for the desert