something about us

something about us drives me crazy. maybe it’s the way I never seem to know what’s going on, how helpless I feel, how pathless, when I’m here and You’re just. . .not, on days when I can’t seem to find Your hand. there are times of strength and confidence, beauty unabashed and fruitfulness, almost a...

an apology to my anger

I'm sorry, Anger, for treating you with such unkindness... I hide you away and tether your savage strength to the implacable stone of my rigid self-control, where you pace and fret at your unforgiving confines; I pen you in a cage much too small for your indecent, muscular frame and then slip you food on...

smallness

tonight under these stars brushed by this tender breeze the smallness in me trembling i feel the earth beneath my feet and know that I stand on a tiny sphere held in delicate balance by these far-off stars so distant so small and yet my very breath is given space by these a thousand candles...

autumn–small joys

Sunny autumn frames, Brimming with scarves and wind And warm hugs on the curb, Wind-music in the blood And blooming on chilled cheeks. Sharp November mornings. Cold wooden floor, hot golden tea. Ten-year-old flannel, The favorite mug and its broken handle. Waiting at bus stops For old friends, Catch a coffee before the sunlight dims...

you amaze

Your beauty is the crystal thing of far-flung stars. Your light is that of fireflies drifting on twilit summer breezes. Your mystery is deeper than the shifting greens of night-filled woods. Your touch is felt on rain-flecked cheeks. Your thoughts are like long droughts of sweet water. Your strength is fiercer than storm-thrashed coasts. Your...

beaded curtains

beaded curtains between two rooms our lives drip down in shades of red and gold enflamed with evening sun we shudder in a cold wind the molten strands of moments dance the music of our lives is the shiver of a million beads

I know

yes, I know where fireflies enflame shadow-circled silver fields, I’ve seen the trembling grain shiver under golden-swollen chalk-dust moons. I’ve heard the frogs and nightbirds thrustle, throaty, under verdant-arching trees; felt the ink-black breeze like a dark river, slipping smoothly between bending branches— I’ve watched far-flung stars of the furthest skies bend low to brush...

proposal

they were in the orchard eating sun-warmed apples and he was asking her to marry him. there were thin sheets of golden sun shifting through the leaves and a few crickets were singing somewhere in the tall yellow grass. shadows were murmering in the hollows and a bird was singing over the little creek. leaves...

hell of a thing

inevitably at times you will feel like a canopy of dingy old fabric. you will tire of propping up the sag. your rib cage will seem to you like an old mine, all your strength given to pounding in more support beams. you will devote all that you are simply into not caving in. fortunately,...

I’m not here

This is not a rundown, weedy parking lot--this is a beach in the early afternoon. This car I'm in is my adirondack chair. These greedy pigeons are gulls soaring up through gusts of salty Atlantic wind. The coffee in my hand is rum and mango juice, topped with a tiny umbrella. I'm here, but I'm not here. You...