Recent talk of fairy tales reminds me of my affection for witchery, the seductive darkness of a crow-like laugh, black, feathered shoulders, the boney hand extended in offering that, even as a child, you know means to snatch you and throw you into an oven or well. Wellsprings of virtue in the suffering of girls … Continue reading Breadcrumbs
Road Trip Shanty
We rose with the sun, ate a honey bun for the fair morning was a beckoning one and the purple fields and greening leaves ‘gainst a great blue sky above Yo Ho the open road Cups a-brim with our cups-a Joe Hi Ho press the pedal low Where the center line don’t show Road up … Continue reading Road Trip Shanty
O Holy Night
We mustn’t laugh. O Holy Night, when year after year the unholy octave looms, then tanks as a warbling soloist, who has only just rushed to the church after setting out soup and Christmas Eve charcuterie, with a long night of wrapping still ahead, straightens her robe smooths her hair, steps forward with the organist … Continue reading O Holy Night
Clair de lune
I sit yards away, near her, but this moment, she's so far from me, her eyes on the page her hands moving up and down keys, black and white against the olive-green antiqued upright our father brought home for her. Already at four I know the line I cannot cross to reach her when walls … Continue reading Clair de lune
Aisling (day 25)
They are so high in the laddered hemlocks fairy wings torn, dressed up pirate angels unaware of my watching them, caught up in their courage & gleeful ascent. Beseech you, mother of backyards protect my daughters when I can no longer reach them. Wrap them in green and gold. Repair those wings that they may … Continue reading Aisling (day 25)
Vanishing Point
As children, we peered over black music stands, deep eye flirtations across a roomful of glinting brass. You liked my long brown braids, I liked your Jack Purcell sneakers. You hid poems In my locker. We grew up, went walking, and heat rose in the spaces between us where we never ever touched. And all … Continue reading Vanishing Point
Resurrecting The Dogs (day 17)
When Chance, the neighbor’s Dalmation and Colette, our Brittany Spaniel conjoined in the middle of the street first day of 2nd grade, the whole gang screamed for our mothers, who shooed us away, said never mind. Later, spotted pups filled a red wagon we dragged door to door in search of treats from widow ladies … Continue reading Resurrecting The Dogs (day 17)
And Scene
Close up Woven threads, green, blue, red Little girl humming Pan back from above The child sits cross-legged on a round rug in a cluttered room moves wooden blocks into the shape of a simple house Humming, she mumbles And you sleep here You sleep over there Light filters through curtains billowing softly into the … Continue reading And Scene
13 (belated)
I wouldn’t go back there, thirteen, tryin to act 30 eyelashes all greased up blue shadow n’ loves baby soft n corduroy hip huggers barely hugging straight up n down hips hot iron hair, Vaseline lips. Six feet tall in platform shoes guess I wanted to stand out six feet tall -played volleyball, the boy … Continue reading 13 (belated)
Small
We were summertime vacation babysitters on a night “off” from the chaos of children of mostly absent parents. Hiking a great dune at sunset seemed a good idea. Strand lights twinkled below. The black ocean lapped the shore mid-distance. I don’t remember her name. We were both invisible that week, and she won’t remember mine. … Continue reading Small
Early Morning Poems 