Today again I thank the arugula
for the way it teaches me
that sharpness, too, is what
draws us in, that we come
not just to forgive
but to crave what is bitter,
what bites us back.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged arugula, bitterness, food, paradox on June 30, 2020| 2 Comments »
Today again I thank the arugula
for the way it teaches me
that sharpness, too, is what
draws us in, that we come
not just to forgive
but to crave what is bitter,
what bites us back.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cancer, friendship, healing, paradox, tree on January 28, 2020| 2 Comments »
The yew can live to be over two thousand years old—
a sacred tree that grows large enough for forty people
to stand inside it. Today, its ancient power fits
in a clear plastic bag the size of two fists and it drips
through a clear plastic tube into the chest of my friend.
In three days, she will not want to move. She will not
want to eat. She will wonder if it’s all worth it.
It will last a week. So strange that a plant
that causes death when consumed will help
to save her life. Her hair has been gone for weeks.
But today, on her last day of chemo, I marvel
at how she is being infused with evergreen
in the hopes that she will transmogrify, carry
in her the mystery that grows in the bark of the tree.
When a yew branch touches the ground, it takes root.
Sprouts again. Let her body know this secret. Amen.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cat, hope, loss, paradox, poem, poetry, science on December 28, 2019| 2 Comments »
Hope is, perhaps, a quantum thing,
a paradox, like Schrödinger’s cat,
simultaneously alive and dead.
Today, I wandered the snowy field
and the icy banks and the shadowed wood,
calling the name of my sweet gray cat.
If I could find her now, I’d see
she’s either alive or dead.
But in this moment of uncertainty,
she’s both alive and dead to me.
I’m tugged by both possibilities as I wade
through tall dry grass. Oh damn that hope,
and bless it, too, how just a candle-measure
opposes a whole tower of unfounded certainty,
sends me out into the blizzard
calling her name, listening.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged celebration, death, grief, knitting, paradox, poem, poetry on April 3, 2019| 2 Comments »
grief and celebration
share the same bed—
one keeps stealing the blanket
the other
keeps knitting a beautiful new one
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ars poetica, paradox, poem, poetry, vulnerability, writing on September 12, 2018| Leave a Comment »
pulling on my mask
as my nom de plume
unbuttons her blouse again
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged paradox, parenting, poem, poetry, rope on September 9, 2018| Leave a Comment »
in the same hand
I hold the rope to bind you,
the scissors to cut you free
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged paradox, poetry, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, uncertainty on January 21, 2017| 4 Comments »
Yesterday, I spoke with KSJD radio in a 10-minute interview about how poems–both writing and reading them–might help us navigate uncertain times. You can listen to the interview here.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged paradox, poem, poetry on July 22, 2016| 1 Comment »
beside the waterfall—
this wish to applaud married to
this wish to be very quiet
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged paradox, poem, poetry on February 10, 2016| 1 Comment »
One Prediction
not one cloud
and still the heart’s forecast
is for rain
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, paradox, poem, poetry, relationship on June 28, 2015| 2 Comments »
hold me, I say
then put on a dress
of thorns—
blood on your cheek, your hands,
I kiss you there