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Archive for July, 2025

Lucky 

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on July 13, 2025| 2 Comments »


 
No, I didn’t just fall,
I flew. Stubbed my toe
while walking down
the knobby, steep path,
and I flew, did a somersault,
too, and my hat and glasses
fell off, and I landed, sprawling,
somewhat upside down
on the trail and what
is a human to do
but leap up and be grateful
all those big, heavy stones
are in the path and not
in my pockets, grateful
that bruises will heal,
grateful leaping up
was an option this time.
Not that one plans
to fall, but isn’t it strange
how a mistake can
sometimes make you
feel lucky, not lucky
to fall, but lucky to
be able to move
through the world
at all.

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In a Time of Many Wildfires

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on July 11, 2025| 2 Comments »


 
 
Geranium leaves
covered in fine white ash—
how many ghosts of tall pine trees
visit today in my garden—
and still, with such delicacy
the new flowers open.

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CINEPOEM: For the One Who Is Gone

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , on July 11, 2025| Leave a Comment »

One more week till the album release of RISKING LOVE! It’s so fun to send out these cinepoems of our tracks each week, featuring poems by me, music by the wonderful Steve Law, and video by the amazing Holiday Mathis. Please join us for our release party next Friday, July 18 on zoom. Free. 3 p.m. Mountain Time. Register HERE. The album itself is sometimes flirty. Sometimes raw. Sometimes electric. Always wildly alive. It’s an intimate album that explores how we might fall more deeply in love with the world as it is, even when that seems impossible. You can listen to this single on Spotify, Apple Music, iTunes, or anywhere you listen to music. You can pre-purchase the album on Bandcamp.

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You belong to this world with

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on July 11, 2025| Leave a Comment »


 
 
its early morning thunderstorm
that wakes you with a clap,
this world of early morning rain
and dusty midday paths,
this world with plumes of wildfire
that fill the air by evening,
the valleys thickly choked with smoke,
the mountains disappearing.
You belong to this world of tinder.
Sometimes it hurts to belong.
You belong to the burning world of fear
as much as the world of song.
You most surely belong to music,
to this world of euphoric dancing
And as you dance, you smile,
dance as if it’s your calling.
They sing of constant sorrow.
You dance. The ash keeps falling.

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One When I Least Expect It

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on July 9, 2025| 1 Comment »

kneeling in front of the wild rose
nose buried in pink petals,
the whole world fitsinto one wild rose

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Beyond Patience

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , on July 8, 2025| 5 Comments »


 
If I knew another word for patience,
would it open me to the act?
Perhaps something that invokes the patience
in the zinnias after the first central flower has died
and before the next buds are formed.
Something that speaks to the patience of winter
while the field is greening more deeply every day.
To be patient is to believe there is a moment
beyond now that will be better than now.  
So perhaps instead of patience, the word
I’m longing for is presence. The capacity
to be only here. Only now. Here in the garden
where the zinnia row is thick with leaves.
Here in the meadow where it’s warm and
the tall grass tickles my bare thighs. Now
in the week before my sweet girl arrives.
Ah, there it is, back to the anticipation.
Try again. Presence, as in now, in this moment
when swallows swoop and skate and swirl.
Now, when my breath opens in my chest,
opens like a zinnia, many petalled and red.

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One Glorious

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on July 7, 2025| 1 Comment »


 
 
no use sipping this sunset—
I guzzle and immediately
I’m tipsy on pink

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Morning

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on July 7, 2025| 6 Comments »


 
By the time I realized
I was dreaming of him,
it was too late.
 
Already, the dream
was vanishing like night,
like dew.
 
For an hour I lay there,
eyes closed, grasping
at glimpses. Losing them.
 
All I was left with:
He was happy.
So was I.
 
Finally, I opened my eyes
to this world where
he is not. And yet.
 
The sun was here warming
the bed. More truly, the sun
was not physically here.
 
The sun is somewhere
far, far, far away,
but that doesn’t stop it
 
from transforming
the whole room.

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Inner Girl

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on July 6, 2025| 9 Comments »


 
 
I don’t know why he started calling me Roxanne,
but sometime in high school that’s what Dad did.
No matter it wasn’t my name. I loved how it made
me feel—something just ours. Dad had a way
of doing that—making a person feel seen, feel
uniquely known to him. And so today,
on his birthday, I imagined Dad could see me
through the veils of death. I talked to him as usual
as I weeded the garden bed. Told him about
the four river otter that showed up in the pond today,
how they slid their dark slick bodies across the top
of the water and dined on crawdads for hours.
As always, Dad didn’t talk back. Then, tonight,
at a party, when a woman introduced herself
as Roxanne, I stared at her, stunned, then unraveled
into tears. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know it’s strange
to have a person start to weep when you tell
them your name.” She was kind to me all
the same. Just hearing someone say the word
I understood how much I miss hearing him
say it, miss the person I am with him.
It’s as if a door has been locked for years—
the door through which I am Roxanne.
Someone silly. Treasured. Supported. Known.
Hearing the name again felt like a key,
a gift on his birthday. It didn’t bring him back,
but it revived a forgotten part of me.
Even now, she is writing this poem.

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One on the Fourth of July

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on July 4, 2025| 4 Comments »


 
 
more special
than a whole sky of fireworks—
one long shooting star

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