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Archive for December, 2011

Counting Blessings

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on December 22, 2011| 3 Comments »

Three degrees,
snow on the drive
the ninth stargazer

lily opened
and there was no
apocalypse—

no horsemen four,
no asteroid,
no anti-Christ.

That made this first
cold day of winter
very, very nice.

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Take Five

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on December 22, 2011| 3 Comments »

the truth
enters
the room
like a cold
cold breeze—
sometimes
we’re ready
for a break
from the heat,
sometimes
it’s just
so
cold

*

it’s not
as if we
can make ourselves
fall in love
with the world,
but I’ve noticed
that when
I look up
it’s more
likely

*

it is
after all
the longest night
and even though
tomorrow
it’s only one
more minute
of light
it is one
more
minute

*

I have been praying
for openings,
and behind
every door
that opens
another door

*

with my one
minute more
I don’t know
what I’ll do—
but I hope
I remember
to
look
up

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Eight Attempts

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on December 20, 2011| 2 Comments »

on our fingers,
six layers of skin
because
our hands
are made to touch

*

my daughter
picks a small stone
from the parking lot
and puts it
in her mouth

*

how do we know
what is real?
the stone
in the mouth
smooth and gritty and cold

*

the days
are so short.
they turn
into years
that are so, so short

*

and have we touched
enough?
the fingers
still have much
skin left

*

I am being
eroded
but you can’t see …
it’s all inside
the canyons deepening

*

I used to rush
to fill in
emptiness—
small stones
sinking into a pond

*

already
I have said
too much.

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Here

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on December 20, 2011| 3 Comments »

Perhaps
these rocks
that look
like stumb-
ling blocks
are cairns,
and I
have, with
such diligence,
been kicking
them from
my way—
oh foolish
woman
who thought
that she
was lost.

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Bliss Except When It Is Not

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on December 18, 2011| 3 Comments »

We took a ride
in a one horse open
sleigh today,

and I was one horse
and the red sled
was the open sleigh

and the kids laughed
and reeled as we
trudged through

the field and
searched for the perfect
Christmas tree,

which was not
hard to find.
The noon sun, it caught

in large facets of snow
and we sang, “o’er the fields
we go, laughing …”

but just as we got
to the laughing part
and I was belting

“Ho ho ho,”
the kids began kicking
each other and throwing

snow in each other’s faces
and tipping the red sled
so that they tumbled out

not giggling at all
but shrieking,
“I hate you! Go away!”

And this is how
the bliss goes,
sometimes it looks

a lot like bliss
and sometimes
no.

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The Real Gift

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on December 18, 2011| 1 Comment »

I give you bread.
You no longer eat wheat.
You give me a shirt.
There’s a small grease stain.
We both laugh. Neither
of us bothered to wrap.
Tonight I wear the shirt
and feel pretty.
Tonight you eat the bread
and it tastes like buttered love.
I keep thinking of how
we walked today,
the snow so deep, the air
so warm, the sky as clear,
as beautiful as your face
when all the masks come off.

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You Wonder How Long this Can Go On

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on December 17, 2011| 2 Comments »

Beside the frozen pond
there is not much to say.

The black willows coruscating
seem more satisfactory

than syllables. They do not try
to say, do not try to mean,

they simply catch the fleeting sun
and then lose it all—the ice,

the shine, the crystal gloss.
Though they do not think

of it as loss. You are the one
who decides what is lovelier.

You are the one who is moved
by light. Night, it comes so soon,

but it is nothing personal. Not
a symbol. It is night.

You are the one who longs
for sun. You are the one who

would rather be something gold
than the one shivering

beside the pond, the frozen pond,
where even now the wind

is shaking the willows,
it moves across the ice,

moves through the field
while you stand there, silent,

and it will keep moving
long after you have gone.

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Second Hand

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on December 15, 2011| 4 Comments »

The watchmaker burns
the plans she’d drawn
and winds the blood
of her own clock. Drip.
Drop. She is delinquent.
She is crow. The only time
she tocks is now.

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you come too haiku

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on December 14, 2011| 1 Comment »

full moon
me and the cottonwood tree
one long shadow

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We All Live Like This

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on December 13, 2011| 1 Comment »

The willow branch
hung in rime
just as the sun
begins to shine
is a hopeless place
to be a bloom of ice,
but for that moment
such grace, such light.

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