Posted in Uncategorized, tagged armageddon, dream, gratitude on January 20, 2020| Leave a Comment »
I woke up giddy, because
on rising, there was still
a world. Snow out the window,
and a window! And a cover
on the bed. And a bed!
And a body that ached
from the fall in the trees,
but dang, I had a body.
And it woke up! And yeah,
there is work to do, lots
and lots of work to do,
and love to make and
messes to clean, and
yes, here we are to do it.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged apocalypse, armageddon, poem, poetry, tree on October 30, 2019| 9 Comments »
On the last day of the world, I would want to plant a tree.
—W. S. Merwin
On the last day of the world, I would want
to feed you. Raspberries. Thin slices of apple.
Peaches so ripe they drip down our chins,
down our necks. I would want to sit with you
beneath a tree, no we’ll climb a tree, no
we’ll plant a tree, yes all of these. On the last
day of the world, I want to give myself permission
to feel exactly what I feel, to be exactly who I am,
to shed every layer of should and meet you
that way. Knowing we have only hours left,
could we put down our arguments with ourselves
and each other and find no energy to pick them up again?
On that day, I want us to write the last poem
together and let the writing undo us, let it teach us
how to get out of the way, how to obey what emerges.
Let’s run outside, no matter the weather, and praise
the light till the light is gone, and then praise the dark.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged armageddon, death, gratitude, life, poem, poetry on June 11, 2018| Leave a Comment »
I decided to take
the invitation seriously.
Nothing changed.
I made breakfast.
Went to work.
Walked.
Made a date
to speak with a friend.
Swore at the magpie
that dive bombed
my head. Ate popcorn
for lunch.
Made plans
for four months from now.
Took vitamins.
Drank green tea.
Watered the seeds
planted yesterday.
Talked to the seeds,
encouraged them to grow.
Read a book, stopped
at the penultimate chapter.
Some things are better
left unfinished.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged armageddon, family, gratitude, poetry, thanksgiving on November 25, 2013| 1 Comment »
It wasn’t today.
The plane took off.
Flew. Landed.
My brother arrived.
He drove us
through eight lanes of traffic
to a beautiful home
where it was so easy
to hug, to laugh,
to eat, to remember,
to relax, to not even
think that it
might have gone
another way, so easy
to smile, to give thanks.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged armageddon, beauty, dragonfly, haiku, mess, moon, space, story, surprise on June 27, 2012| 2 Comments »
balanced on a twig—
two blue dragonflies and
all that space between them
*
the story, calloused
and gnarled, inside it
red leaping blood
*
picking up the moon
like a telephone to dial
your number, of course
*
contemplating
dessert for
the Armageddon
*
opening a can
of worms to find
rose petals