Heavy drops fall and wet the grass and bark. Leaves stir; darkness gathers into a grumble. My stomach churns. I, so young, gaze though the window in earnest anticipation, witness spasms of light and crashes of thunder. My organs quake with each strike. How could I and this vast tumult — am I part of nature? Is this my true mother calling me, claiming me, seeking me out? Strange rending, I confess I am you.
Category: Poems
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Agape
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I took this journey for love, not death. Each night, Captain reminds me, could be my last. Each day, I'm blessed with light, wind, and salt. Strange, my being taught to command men. My duties I fulfill, thankful for my life.
Dred
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Petals cry as the sunlight, so long gone, returns, oblivious to small sadness. Life pulps through cold limbs; corpuscles burn. The flower opens its eyes and takes in the sky and the fire. Red petals soak up the blues as they stretch in ecstasy and throb till they spy sunset. The joy that laughed with the sun whispers to the stars.
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I’m tucked away in a small cabin ’mid your vast forest and float upon your world of love, breathing in and out your atmosphere, the stars twinkling ’neath your sun.
Tucked In Nonesuch
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For you: fine lines. I press with care; the ink bleeds.
Splotch
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I wear a white dress with a pink ribbon in the hem. I hold my white parasol, sit, and exchange glances with your sharp eyes. You lean in and my lashes fall. A red-hot poker melts a fat candle without touching it and the exposed wick ignites. You just want to play around. My strings lie loose on my chest. Fiddle with them. Wind them taut to a perfect pitch. Play till they sing. Wind, wind, wind till they snap. Break them. All along I just wanted you to break them: just break them well.
If Umbrellas Could Talk
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Gazing at iridescent coals we remember at leisure the wet logs we used then jettisoned, the dry ones we trucked too many of, the rolled magazines the fire choked on, the lighter fluid the flames absorbed as quick as we poured, the ineffectual pop of the lighter sacrificed to the pile. When we placed leaf next to leaf, stick over leaves, stick next to stick, log over sticks, log next to log, tending over logs, we had s’mores for a time, tending fire.
Tender
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After dropping you off, I find myself in a friendly gaze with God or The Great Mother. I smile for a blissful moment, returning occasionally, humbler each time. It shifts a twinge down right, down left, journeying its way down the hidden pathways in the glass it clings to.Precipitation
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A certain inner peace, quite safe and pleased with herself, wherein there is a certain knowing of the world whereby wherever she alights upon the world that same pleasant fastidiousness whereupon she chuckles with herself she chuckles with her acquaintance wherewith the unknown and uncouth are handily known and tamed: a traveling tea party
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1. Receiving, knowing it is more than I can repay 2. The giving of such 3. The twainGrace
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