in a quiet room
the sound of footsteps
years ago
*
long road ahead—
I put a new handle on
this old heart
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged memory, poem, poetry, short poem on March 7, 2015| 2 Comments »
in a quiet room
the sound of footsteps
years ago
*
long road ahead—
I put a new handle on
this old heart
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, short poem on April 14, 2014| 1 Comment »
in line at the airport—
every one of us a son,
a daughter
*
at the same time
I take the antidote, I hold my hand
to the serpent’s mouth
*
in a room with six thousand butterflies,
impossible to be anywhere but in a room
with six thousand butterflies
*
tying one end of the noose
to my neck, throwing the other end
to the sky
*
not one word
worth writing—
this big, big ocean
*
having no single way to love you,
what a gift—I find
many ways
*
I am perhaps a wind
dreaming it is a woman
sitting very, very still
*
lying right
on top of you dreaming
I can’t find you
*
playing possum
does not work
unless you are a possum
*
laying my worries
out on the table—
the gulls devour them
*
that trap you set for me?
without springing it
I write a love poem on it
*
even though the waves
erase that line you drew,
I still know where it is
*
turning to look at you
I cry, attacked
by gratitude
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged death, fate, life, poetry, short poem on March 17, 2014| 1 Comment »
watching them move,
those lips you haven’t
kissed me with
*
I am equal parts
delight and distraught—
the melting pond
*
on my inner thigh
impression of twisted sheets—
by noon all is lost
*
I am not the one
behind the bars, but her story
imprisons me
*
another day, another
day, another day I
haven’t died
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged are we there yet, arrival, kids, parenting, questions, short poem on December 7, 2013| 1 Comment »
long after we arrive
still the question
are we there yet?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged dissolution of the separate self, poetry, short poem, wind on November 27, 2013| 1 Comment »
when left in wind
the cloth unravels until it becomes
the wind
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged identity, poetry, short poem on November 21, 2013| 1 Comment »
slipping it off,
this silken garment I thought
was my skin
*
this, too, an act
of violence, opening
my hand
*
after the flood
not stopping to pick through
the debris
*
inside
this conversation
new moon
*
so giddy to lose
this negligee of shoulds I forget
to blush
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged autumn, found, loss, poetry, short poem on October 9, 2013| 1 Comment »
one cold night
everything gold
is brown
*
where, I say, is the bliss?
nowhere, says Ulli, until
it’s inside of you
*
lost: a car key,
a credit card, a friend’s coat,
my certainty
*
two untied balloons
one glorious
sky
*
humming a tune
about October, how it goes,
October goes
*
brown, brown, brown, brown, brown,
countless unnamed shades
of (oh!) brown
*
found: another question,
a car key, a credit card,
a friend’s coat, a loss
*
to the one missing it
that much sweeter
the scent of rain
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged friendship, goodbye, light, short poem on August 17, 2013| 2 Comments »
not just the light
though that, too, how it bloomed
across the green lawn
but also her waving hands
so empty, so full of light
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged found, poetry, short poem on June 23, 2013| 1 Comment »
Follow your feet
said the hands.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged haiku, poetry, short poem, what if on June 22, 2013| 3 Comments »
dried on the bush
these roses
I never picked for you
*
but I have nothing
to sow said the hand
to the plow
*
caught in the web
all those dreams
I gave wings
*
too soon, I said
to the sun, said the sun,
you are the one who moves
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged death, haiku, life, poetry, short poem on May 24, 2013| 2 Comments »
I am not
in any hurry says the earth
to my breath
*
turning myself
into blue sky, meeting
you there
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged apocalypse, endtimes, haiku, poetry, present, short poem on May 20, 2013| 6 Comments »
don’t blame me
if the apocalypse comes
before I’m done dusting
*
everything
that’s been taken from me
was first given to me
*
how easily we say
these words, next week,
as if it will come
*
why we plant seeds—
because we’ve made a life
out of old tomorrows
*
even though
it’s the thousandth rainbow
still running to look
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged haiku, poem, short poem, travel on May 2, 2013| 2 Comments »
walking in the room
the dog sniffs the air
where the poem was
*
plastic bubble pipe—
what does this have to do
with infinity?
*
green exit sign—
wishing I could hang it
above my fear
*
empty dish—
the cat never worries
about her figure
*
no atmosphere, no
water, no life, Mars at least
you’re still a planet
*
in large white letters
the highway sign says MARVEL—
I pass going sixty
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged haiku, moon, morning, nightmare, short poem, tanka on February 19, 2013| 5 Comments »
mama! she shrieks
I throw back the sheets, leap
run naked through night
but can’t make it into her dream
the place she needs me most
*
whatever the moon
says, that is what I
say, too
*
rushing out
to smell the morning
before its gone
there will be other mornings
but only one like this
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged crow, haiku, intimacy, letting go, miracle, nearness, paradox, patience, short poem, time warp, water, wave on February 2, 2012| 1 Comment »
It would take weeks
to walk to your house, still
our hearts so close.
*
This morning I ski
into the woods—forty years
later I ski out.
*
The snow did not stop
when I said stop, but it did
not fall forever.
*
Across the lake
invisible in the trees,
the crow in my ear.
*
That ripple
never travels and it is
always new water.