Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘escape’

 

 

 

The day she ran away from home

she didn’t pack a thing.

She just walked up the drive

and turned left and kept on walking,

Even the thistles didn’t dare ask her

where she was going. Even her shoes

were content to know nothing more

than one more step.

 

 

Read Full Post »

This morning when she pours the milk

into the child’s cup, she doesn’t stop.

She pours until the cup is full, until

it spills across the counter, ’til it spills

onto the floor. She pours and pours

until the kitchen is flooded in milk,

it is up to her knees, it is up to her waist,

it is dammed against the kitchen door,

which she opens, then she floats the creamy tide

into morning, riding atop the pearly tide.

With one hand, she waves at her neighbors,

with the other she continues to pour the milk.

She is surfing now through the streets of town,

past the bank, past the school, past the crowd

who has gathered to stare. “Oh,” they say,

with a shake of their heads, “she has really lost it

this time, bless her heart,” and they step

on the curb to keep their feet from getting wet,

and she smiles and blows them a one-handed kiss,

and with her other hand she pours and pours.

Read Full Post »

For an hour today, she practices escaping
from the stairs. There is no jail here,

only our pretense of bars. She,
the bank robber. I the police.

I lock her up again with my invisible
jail cell key. Then I swallow the key,

I throw it away, but she always produces another,
an invisible skeleton key she’s been hiding

somewhere around her and she lets
herself out again, then hovers nearby

to be caught. I feign dismay. She’s
escaped, again! And search for her,

looking right through her. Until,
aha! I say, and grab her. She never

struggles much, almost hurls her body
at me to be caught. So similar to

how I want to be held, forever,
I say, and then the next moment

I long for escape. Oh sweet
imagination, how real it all can seem,

like this girl slipping away from the stairs,
saying for the fourteenth time, catch me again.

Read Full Post »

Eight Escapes

still buds
already the lily perfume
opens

*

walking the fallen log
a fallen
woman

*

the heart
it
seeps

*

diamonds
don’t make it
to the lost and found

*

me, my shadow
attached
unattached

*

better to be lost
she thought
stepping out of the lines

*

running
my laugh
on my heels

*

here
there
a day leaks through them

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: