small songs I sing
to join
my voice to other voices
hidden in the grass

Wednesday, February 27, 2013


the tailor’s dummy
in my mother’s closet
no hands
no head no name . . .
her shape in my mirror

at the firehouse
a small white sign
safe surrender site
tenderly I swaddle
my orphaned fears

a box of delights
unopened inside me
I search
jungles and oceans
for the key in its lock

the music
breaks open
inside of me
something else
I didn’t know I wanted

through goldenrod
and asters
we catch for a moment
time’s powdered wings

Ribbons 8: 3, winter 2012

Friday, February 22, 2013

[the gold flash . . .]

the gold flash
of a flicker’s wing
in gray rain
I glimpse another world
inside this one

red lights 9:1,  Jan. 2013