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The slim stationary box somehow preserved under stacks of composition notebooks workshop folders, flattened paper bags, saved with the illusion of recycling possibility, recovers memory. In the box, a scrap of a poem left in my high school locker. The boy inspired me to wear white Jack Purcell sneakers with my Levi straight Leg Jeans, … Continue reading Meander; Swedish Death Cleaning Day

The empty cookie jar begs the question Who ate the last ginger snap? The mower in the yard begs the question Who went to fill the gas can? The sock on the stair begs the question Where is its mate? The unfurled toilet role begs the question Again? The battered mailbox begs the question Of … Continue reading Begging the Question

Blue sky betrays the fallen daffodils which just yesterday seemed a sure sign that this long winter was a wrap. It’s still possible to walk our creaking bones through a chilly gauntlet of birdsong each morning believing in a promise of warmer wafting air, that the ground will unlock its perfume of worm dirt to … Continue reading How to Wait for Spring

Kuan Yin Again Almost always but never quite wrecked on the shores of human tragedy, I recede to watch, near enough to touch or hold my hands aloft in witness, say yes to ground currents of distress- let it all pass through to dissolve You won’t notice the effort, I barely do. Loyal to tasks … Continue reading Kuan Yin Again

This winter moon draws back veils of darkness asks we do the same I dream a tall house with many cluttered rooms full of charmed possibility On the edge of understanding I delight in an Escher-like stair climb See patterned papers tattered crazy quilts, dusty books and bathtubs Imagine what to keep --to release, all … Continue reading Winter Moon

Sandbreak As if wire and pinewood unspooled to a vanishing point along the foamy shoreline could keep the drifting dune in place. As when gulls fly inland, summer people leave, every season has its storm. I see you letting go at the edges looking out beyond everything --at steel waters, sobering skies. As if we … Continue reading Sandbreak

Oh squirrel in the cup of the curved pine tree Wren on the wire, robin in leaves. A morning’s chatter on this side of heaven your tails wave questions, your feathered exclamations. Oh shovel, truck and gun, the heavy wheels, poison cargo, as I sit here breathing in this quiet sunrise, children go to sleep, … Continue reading Skyblue

April 9, 2018 Translucent creep, invisible yet so very there we meet in the bedroom where you skinfeast then shed, take me down to my knees a rattling wheeze crackling cough doubled over helpless in what feel like end days. Our battle is long, unfriendly pin prick. This Goliath will not go down without a … Continue reading Dermatophagoides Farinae (American Dust Mite n Me)

April 8 2018 Her cheeks tingle, the featherlight touch. Eyelids flutter open and no one in the room. Clara tells me her story. I tell her mine. We share the comfort and hair-raising chill of old houses and long-dead grandmothers, empty creaking rocking chairs, owls in the mist outside cracked windows beckon to shadows on … Continue reading Blood-Touched

tender perfectionist Heart harboring a fragile eloquence most often in conversation with yourself- meet me out there on the knobby ground of all our myriad failures our unspoken mumblings come two-step and trip with me boldly without fear