Floating Leaves

October 10, 2017 § Leave a comment

As measured as the falling sand encased
within its glass pours its grains,
Our delicate threads of friendship baste
the pieces of a new pattern.
With Silver Needles, we stitch the hour.
Steeped into the tea we share
A quiet kind of renewal is fixed ~
A steady seam, a sure repair,
And the tranquility of floating leaves,
Fashioned to unfurl like a flower,
To mend what I would have thrown away.
With a paper crane I give wings
to the words I cannot shape to say.
Invitations, and green tea ~
These things hold a simple power.

9/13/2005

Summer’s Day

September 10, 2017 § Leave a comment

His love is like a summer’s day
More lovely than William’s sonnet
Like the restless wind of a woodland glen
And all the scents upon it.

Herbs crushed beneath my step
Only mimic his skin’s perfume
Beneath my lips like raspberries
And sweet as a wild bloom

He is as warm as the sleepy sun
And calm as the afternoon
His embrace is like the comforting silk
Of a moth’s unbroken cocoon

I wish my summer’s day would last
Til May becomes December
But summer days I cannot keep
I only must remember.

5/13/1998

The earth trembled, but only where I stood

August 10, 2017 § Leave a comment

The earth trembled, but only where I stood
And the sky, no longer blue, split a seam
Shivering, I gasped within the fog
As in the moment waking from a dream

Overturned, the basket of the world
Spilled out the messy contents of my head
I leaped for down, but upward made my fall
I reached for peace, and found my love instead

My thoughts spin, and from that spindle drops
A thread of rich and variegated hues
And while I sit here plucking at the knots
To salvage wisps of floss that I can use

Then thread through a needle of my hope
And patch the gaping rends within the skies
The earth trembles — but only where I am
As if the universe has grown in size

11/16/07

Persephone Leaves

March 31, 2017 § Leave a comment

A fight is best for us mortals
who look forward to better weather
As long as our health is good ~
Better to die in autumn.

A fight is best
a stormy fight
so that Persephone can leave her lover
in a hot rage.
Her mother’s disposition becomes sunny
when she can spend a late March day
disparaging her daughter’s lord.

Persephone weeps in April
A touch of conflicted homesickness
Tears so light and soft
that they barely bend the flowers that
bloom in her footsteps

2011

Persephone’s Regret

March 20, 2017 § Leave a comment

Love me like Persephone
Who sees spring return
And regrets six seeds
hesitantly plucked
When the whole fruit
was in her fair hand…
Love me not.

Wings

February 10, 2017 § 1 Comment

I wanted wings, but for more than to fly:
To feel the growing of their folded weight
Close-pressed against my body while I lie
Enchambered in a still, suspended state

Spinning deep dreams like a cocoon silk thread;
Then when I wake, to stretch their wonderous span
With caution as I crawl out of my bed
And, drying, flutter like a painted fan

My colors with a slow, sensual sweep;
To bask under the sun’s lingering kiss,
To let the air caress away my sleep;
Beyond the wish to fly, I wanted this;

To show someone the breadth of my feelings
Given their freedom in the form of wings.

10/6/2005

Siren’s Watch

January 10, 2017 § Leave a comment

 

Siren’s Watch

 

In the roar of the Twelfth Man she hears the sound of the distant, deep ocean

of her sisters, in the crashing waves, singing from the foam

crying, calling: come home, come home

the Siren peeks over the top of her tower; she whispers as rain mists over Elliott Bay,

I have emeralds to watch over.

 

In the shriek of jet planes descending, she recalls amorous pleas

of sailors as she pulled them into the embrace of gray death

gasping, gurgling: a breath, a breath

the Siren’s crown is a compass rose; she surveys from Leschi to Harbor Island,

I have a map to treasures.

 

In her clock tower, high above the streets, the Siren watches scenes

of bicycle couriers dispatched by smartphone, meal desires to fulfill

huffing, heaving: a hill, a hill

the Siren looks over the lights of Magnolia; she sighs as dusk settles,

I have a bejeweled city.

3/6/2015

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