Exhausted Peace

He struggled with himself
Madly wrestling the angel of death
Crazy and lightheaded with exhaustion
With resentful glare
He stood back and lowered his arms
The other stood calmly proud
 Defenses throbbing away in echoes
 There was never an intent to harm
In this respite:
  “Man, I don’t want to fight you
    — What are we doing?”

In Praise of Mended Things

Those items that fit me well
 touch my soul
Some spirit of serendipity
 saw to it and allowed our meeting

Perhaps in my loving it
 too much, too long
I wear it bare
Unwilling to part with it
I take it to that little local shop
 or take a needle to it with my novice hand

That once foreign object of love
 Now broken–in
  transfigures into something
  sturdier than when we begin
Those insightful adjustments
 second nature after so much shared trail
 weave into the mending
Now on our second honeymoon
We find ourselves wholly together


God, I thank thee
 such passionate and sensitive artists
 could express themselves so powerfully
 enough to gather together
 in so suitable a house
 your creatures; my privilege
  to witness and breathe in

Snow Smile

You know
Gazing into your smile
I have nothing to offer you
Except the overwhelming gushing
 of appreciation
 for you, flame
You introduced me to life then
 Playing in the snow
  Rather than shoveling it


So, the forest fairies embraced her elbows
 led her to the enchanted stream
 baptized her in cool water

With held breath, stammering, she watched
 the color of her hair flow into the river
 the blush of her checks flow into the river
 the ruby of her lips flow into the river
 freckles, one by one by one
 the glow of her skin flow into the river

Crystalline, transparent, she became
 one with the river
Invisible flowing wings pushed her
 breaking the surface
Her body jumped back onto her
 and she recovered in her nymphs’ arms