Lookin’ For Hope In All The Right Places
A visionary in vintage clothing, A hymn’s longing in faded jeans, Rummaging through objets d’art Or searching for stars in empathic eyes Twinkling over facemasks. The tea leaves in my old hiking boots Laugh like Gibraltar itself At such good…
Invitation from the Queen of Hearts
Meringue images, A la mode memories Of safer days Fluff my pillow at moonrise. I made contact with our future Four years ago. Will the knave of hearts Be up to thievery? We are suspended in pandemic, No bowl-of-cherries trance…
Circles (Candles, Chimes, and Matt’s Wonderment)
How certainly the angels dance! The stretch of possibilities I never fear; I see romance Is candled in a wheel of brass. I practice with a rosy hand The whole of magic in my life. The early arts I toddle…
Poem With Memories. To My Father
your own two feet: i remember how you stood on them through the ill winds of business. i recall you explained to me one night, in your room, about the poor times we were in. i saw the coins on…
Came the Dawn Trotting
morning, morning. came the dawn trotting spongy over the mellow turf with dew. and then the warmth raised the mist to sip it and quenched were the night’s dark candle and the morning’s thirst. dancing, dancing. came your love calling…
Incantation
Winging whitely it came, That moon— Where wheatfields below paid homage. A consecrating host was That moon— Mingling grains of wheat into one specter Of light-bathed. Magnetically, That moon Clustered clouds around itself Illmuninating them In lightning lines of silver…
Breathing Inside My Shell
So many tutorials from Mother Nature, so little time… One of my lessons began with curiosity: how, I wondered, does an embryonic chick sealed in its protective shell get oxygen? Contained in the shell is everything the chick needs to…
On Missing People
this is to miss: wistful for all you should have said before parting. or liked to have done? yes, that too, before you parted. if you didn’t recall at all you wouldn’t miss at all. memories? yes, that too, once…
An Evening of Group Spelunking
Cannons of silence Boomed I stood trapped Flanked by the sunset And the palest moon “Enter in,” ordered they I did, netting visions Of cavecrawling And discovery (Remember my head sandwiched Between pebbles and limestone?) Caverns of silence Remain Without…
For Me, Dust
For me, dust is as much a sacrament As bread. At dawn dust is disturbed Cool by life; at dusk it settles silently As life retires, as sunset goes to sleep. I like this grit as much as mud. It…
