
when leaves look like
suspended wings,
tired and brittle–
my thoughts grow melancholy
and i let the wind
chill me to the bone
before turning away

when leaves look like
suspended wings,
tired and brittle–
my thoughts grow melancholy
and i let the wind
chill me to the bone
before turning away

your beauty leaves me terrified

i hear the geese call to one another throughout the night
and in the morning they fly gracefully toward the dawn,
still vocal, continuing their stories in flight–
in the afternoon, they swim against the current,
test the waters with strong beaks, preen oily feathers,
and leisurely resume the ongoing dialogue–
how i wish i could join the easy conversation

at the very center, there is a hollowness
and it makes the stem brittle
and fragile
and prone to cracking
under pressure

they slept here
and ate here,
loved here
and laughed here,
now
the raw wind blows
cobwebs from torn walls
and worn promises–
no one lives here anymore

“In my opinion, the most ordinary things, the most common and familiar, if we could see them in their true light, would turn out to be the grandest miracles . . . and the most marvelous examples.”
—Michel de Montaigne

the day breaks through the cold, dark night
into a morning of fiery skies and floating ice—
this, more than anything else,
breaks my heart into tiny, little pieces
that i collect with my clumsy mittened hands
and shove into deep pockets


you waited for your lunch–
i envied your concentration,
your impressive weapons and tools

Janis Joplin
patchouli
Marlin Perkins
1977 El Camino
The Partridge Family
skirts made of patches of velvet
The Carol Burnett Show
macrame
Topo Gigio
fondue
The Electric Company
the color “avacado”
Nancy Sinatra’s boots
Shari Lewis and Lambchop
tang
men with long hair
The Carpenters
bell bottom jeans
the song “Love Child” by The Supremes
Grizzly Adams (Rest in Peace, Dan Haggerty)

if i were a very small faerie,
i would live under a tender fern