13 June, 2013  |   1 Comment

Probably. An Update.

Probably, working, or wiping or washing.
Or maybe I’m making our dinner.
Tuesday Night

Probably, hustling, not hiding or hurting.
Or maybe, you’re hinting a little.
Tuesday Night

Probably, sighing, while singing and sunning.
Or maybe, we’re sliding down sand dunes.
Tuesday Night

Probably performing, perfecting our pieces.
Or maybe, we grow up from preschool.
Preschool Graduation

Probably, twirling, thrice turning and twisting.
Or maybe, we went to the beach.
We go to the ocean

We go to the ocean

We go to the ocean

Probably, laughing, losing track of our latitude.
Or maybe, we’re reaching for peace.

Tuesday Night

8 November, 2012  |   Comment

In the Museum

Small and emptied woman you lie here a thousand years dead
your hands on your diminished loins flat in this final bed
teeth jutting from your unwound head your spiced bones black and dried
who knew you and kissed you and kept you and wept when you died,
died you young had you grace? Risus sardonicus replied.
Then quick I seized my husband’s hand while he stared at his bride.

Isabella Gardner (b. 1915)

Cooper Lake

2 November, 2012  |   1 Comment

The Adversary

Untitled

A mother’s hardest to forgive.
Life is the fruit she longs to hand you,
Ripe on a plate. And while you live,
Relentlessly she understands you.

Phyllis McGinley (1905-1978)

13 January, 2012  |   2 Comments

Proper Lighting – Poetry Friday

Back in the early aughts, I used to write a poem every Friday. Inspired by Amy Turn Sharp, I’m bringing it back. Let’s try this!

Moonrise, Chaco Canyon

Lady, lady
Come to me.

Cause lady, lady
I can’t see.

My nightlight broke
The bright went out
Fumble, fumble, cast about.

My eyes, they broke
My sight it went.
I feel the breath of monsters here,

Just like me, they’re spent.
Just like me, they’re spent.

Lady, lady
Can’t I just sleep?
It seems more safe for me

Lady, lady,
Get the light
So I can finally see.

Turn on my own damn light,
you say?

I thought I might be dead.

This switch, you say,
above me?

This one above my head?

Arms reach, I guess.
You were so right.
This darkness comes undone.

Flashlights, candles,
lamps and flares,
bright shining as the sun.