May Cats

May 2, 2019 § Leave a comment

Now is the time for all good cats
to rise up from their afternoon naps
and shed the bulky, cold weather coats
leaving them on their keepers’ laps.

5/2007

Aesop’s Crow

January 21, 2019 § Leave a comment


Three things.

There are things I can love safely

and I pour myself into to them

desperate for a new shape.

I see myself doing it,

tipping my pieces out

and saying, “At least this–”

Because my whole life, it has been

the pebbles that save me

pebbles in a vase, raising the water

so I can drink.

I put a shape inside a shape,

culmination of acquisitions

Because when you pile up seeds

you can make a mountain

No special faith required

just one after the other until there is enough.

And I believe that, almost,

I have faith in that promise.

Every day could have three things, safe to love.

Five minutes to learn a language;

A phone app game motivates a walk;

And a poem, why not?

It’s a holding pattern, yes,

I know.

It’s also a shape

A form my life can take

So I can address my need.

Nightly Rising

October 10, 2018 § Leave a comment

“Nightly Rising”

In satin pools of blood, reflection drowned.
She saw her face within the shining eye
of he who stank of cemetery ground,
who drained her to her death but not to die.

The looking glass is blank when she slides by,
never again her image to be found.
To darkness and to endless desire bound,
she creeps beneath the haunt of the cold sky.

Mirroring a mirror, unknowingly,
The pale glide of that celestial body,

Nightly rising with sickle dripping white,
the pulse of day changed to a pallid flow
of stolen life for a dead satellite,
that immortal older than she below.

6/12/2006

.Sleep Together.

August 30, 2018 § Leave a comment

This warm presence nearby
trusts me enough to
sleep
at my side.
Placid, even breaths
measure the stretches of our time
together.
On the crest of slumber, I hear
his heart,
a soothing sound, as steady as waves.
When I, too, sink into the deep
our dreams will mingle like
sand and tide,
the tangled track of our waking days
Washed blank when spirits
meet and part
and bodies rest, touching.

 

August 27, 2005

Aya

August 23, 2018 § Leave a comment

All the doors and windows open,

you left the place where you had lived,

and the home we had together

will be so, so empty of you now.

Today I will celebrate you,

Every day I will celebrate you,

who loved me

In a way I understood.

I Take My Coffee and Tea Black

August 10, 2018 § Leave a comment

This bitter is sweet
when taste understands the flavor
unclouded;
familiar liquid comfort
as I wake.
I am not denying myself honey,
sugar, or candy;
there is no denial on my lips.
This bitter is sweet
sweet enough for me
taken for what it is,
not what it could become,
As complex as its color
tinting shadow and reflection.
Acceptance warms me as
it cools.

12/08/2005

Nothing Sweet

July 10, 2018 § Leave a comment

It is nothing; ignore the hints
the way my laugh follows yours,
how I watch your mouth as you speak,
and when you have caught me
reaching toward you, attempting to sneak
a trailing touch on your hair
so near to your neck, ear, and cheek.

Nothing comes of a hidden thought
of a secret whispered to no one else,
the boundary lines kept seemingly neat
a certain thing of clear intent
and if I’m sitting at your feet
when close to you, with hopes kept close
it is nothing; it is sweet.

1/18/2011

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