Author: Beth Lodge-Rigal

Gaia lived deep in the dark and wept tears Tears became rain that covered the ground Ground made Brother and sister of mud Mud children, beetles, birds, sowed seeds and made stars No one was watching, or writing it down   Stars dimmed behind clouds, behind clouds, was an eye Eye, was the sun growing … Continue reading Day 19

Neo-not today. This requires rotations of thoughtcells in a brain ill-programmed; sundammed , bloodclogged, and worddumb. G’nighty night. May be-sleeped in the morn a- wording I will go.  

  Preble County Nocturne Brown birds on the wire, western sky at dusk still melt colors coral to indigo as the sun drops behind Bulla’s farrowing shed over the state line. Though the chickens have dispersed, the best part of the half-timbered barn came down years ago, and the orchard where we ran died back … Continue reading Day 17-Preble County Nocturne

Dear D- You’re breaking me I said it only once when you were three on fire with temper throwing punches while flinging yourself into the other side of a door which I held closed with my body as I slipped down the rabbit hole of despair some mothers know well when the force of their … Continue reading Day 16 A Letter

Day14 Clerihew Dear Beyonce About you and Jay What a fortune you’ve made Turning lemons 2 lemonade   Day 15 Half-Way Nonet variations for a glass half full We argue some days are all over filled hours lost to the ordinary obligations in the work we do that no body sees, so it sometimes leaves … Continue reading Days 14 & 15 Together

Ghazals I Love the quiet, liquid dark, skin shine after a storm It washed in lately with me and mine after a storm   Blue chairs on beaches, sea oats, lonely mailbox delivery Walking the strand this time after a storm   Turtles move with tides, my tiny one sleeps and cries Time passes lightning … Continue reading Day 13

Living morning loud With sounds showering Down from tree tops Staccato sparrow squirrel Screeching argument is Song akin to a 12-tone Modernist composer’s Vision of any dreary Wednesday Waking to itself wonderful Crashing chaos a caterwaul Call to rise and enter in To the fray of another day

Refrain adapted from a remembered line in Louise Erdrich’s The Bingo Palace   Hardly a day goes by she doesn’t pause at a window, or on slick-end streets recalling seasons of lilac in scented waves rolling or woodsmoke or sleet first were the hours, days, weeks, then years  she wondered what becomes of the question: … Continue reading Day 11 BOP

I admire his faith. Stronger than mine.   See how he glances skyward while playing piano, not so much consorting with as allowing access the powers of ethers that illuminate, in moments, a radiance of being, an easy willingness to be used for high purpose. He is elsewhere and inimitably present. He is otherwise engaged … Continue reading Day Ten

Novelinee Springtime pollens troubling my eyes Inhaler empty, breathless what to do A world oppressed by men in suits who lie This weighty day must still be muddled through We are, I am, you are, alive today To breathe the air, to rise, to carry on In anger, love, endeavoring a way To stay awake … Continue reading Day 9 Nine Lines