Her dress is snagged by briars her hair falling down She wears a ring of dandelions like a halo She says I see the bird song and hear time slipping by In town they say she’s crazy I say I tend to agree She frolics naked by the meadow chasing butterflies she dances…
Category: Poetry
TV
the portal flickers blue light across the room. though you know better, you pass through, unconscious
delicate desperation
Spring pushes through the ground, away the images frozen in my mind. I try not to pin too much on such a delicate season, yet, Spring, you must save me.
Dying Softly
Buying bicycles, my boyfriend and I stood in line. From the next isle over, a white-trash, rotted teeth, camouflage- fishing-hat wearing man says, “Hey, dude, what time’s the game tonight?” Momentarily unaware of his intention, I mutter “I have no idea.” With his laughter, realization and anger at myself for not saying: …
At Home in the Garden of Good and Evil
Partake of the fruit, my friend. The rewards are ours to reap; we have planted the seeds. Let the sweetness linger on your tongue, catch in your throat the rewards are ours to reap. Bent like daffodils, children in war torn starvation. Shining like sunbeams, mothers in radiant aggravation. Pouring like a fountain,…
Absalom’s Tresses
Your unmatched beauty drives chariots and men, a teeming throng. Yet you garrote your own throat with your barbed tongue. Your fine face betrayed when I told you, “You are the precious last breath of a drowning man. You are rocks in my pockets.” You are my death. In your name, this…
Shadow boxing
our shadow boxing was a fight neither of us could win, a love neither could endure, a choreography neither could master when night falls fast, shadows meld with darkness and no one’s left to battle
girl in a coma
I: the mother I sit by your side as sleep blossoms within you, unfolding like a morning glory at dawn. Long ago the doctors sent you home. Friends no longer come to visit; they have children of their own to care for. twenty-nine years you have lain here. never…
the cemetery gates
The echo of loss rings from beyond the cemetery gates as I pass by in wonder of lives and loves lost, always too soon, no matter the age. Weeping willows, winding streams, rolling hills, and monuments etched from stone stand sentinel beyond the cemetery gates where the specter of grief walks the rows alone, in…
Starfish
I love you like a starfish. When you break a piece off, I will grow another.
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