it’s not that I’ve never
seen a walking stick,
more that I’ve never noticed
I’ve seen a walking stick—
this rising urge to watch you
tie your shoes, hold a pen,
light a fire.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged paying attention, poem, poetry on June 22, 2015| 3 Comments »
it’s not that I’ve never
seen a walking stick,
more that I’ve never noticed
I’ve seen a walking stick—
this rising urge to watch you
tie your shoes, hold a pen,
light a fire.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged allowing, blank page, god, haiku, learning, losing, paying attention, poems, writing on January 10, 2012| 6 Comments »
did it just start to
sing, that brown bird, or did I
just start to listen?
*
a night of fretting,
but the day comes in with a
cartwheel
*
that letter so much
more precious now that I
have lost it
*
once I took all the
books off the shelves, God arrived
with a blank page
*
today
the leaf just
a leaf
*
no pillow tonight!
the poem just grabbed a drum
and crooked its finger
*
but I don’t know how
to fly, I said, and God said,
start by falling
*
still cupped in my hands
this song hummed to me
seven years ago