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

Friday, January 25, 2013

[I sew . . .]

I sew
a little red satin heart
for the Tin Man
somewhere inside me
it begins to beat

red lights 9:1,  Jan. 2013

Monday, January 21, 2013

[I sleep . . .]

I sleep
with her cradled
in my arms
this dark animal
we call sorrow

Notes from the Gean 15,  Jan 2013

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Sky Moving

I hold you
on my lap, close to my heart—
your brain scan
the doctor looks away

at last
you stand and walk
seizing with one hand
both thorns and flowers

driving miles
out of my way
to bump over train tracks
I follow the power lines
of your first obsessions

rain blots
the edges of your fear
as trees topple . . .
el derecho storms
giving your mind a spin

that wizard
behind the curtain
had real power—
your enchantment with tornadoes
an unbreakable spell

you write the wind
a poem on fluttering paper:
sky moving
blow windy just Earth
thunderstorms rainstrong

too many
syllables for a poem—
the names
they give the tempests
raging in your brain

at dark sky you ask
if that bright
steady star is Jupiter—
love its never-ending  storm

LYNX  28:1, February 2013

This poem is a tribute to my son, Evan, whose many, many challenges have enriched my life for thirty years, taking me on a never-ending, whirlwind journey through a land as different as Oz.

Monday, January 14, 2013

[standing stones . . .]

who put them here
these standing stones
balanced en pointe
            marking the way
            through the sleeping wood

Atlas Poetica  12, summer 2012

Friday, January 11, 2013

[wild ducks . . .]

wild ducks
pass over the water
like shadows
leaving only streaks of light
. . .  I refold your letter

Moonbathing 7, fall/winter 2012

A letter written nearly seventy years ago--its reader & writer both long gone, leaving only streaks of light.

Friday, January 4, 2013

[bootsoles . . .]

clapping together
another snowstorm

Magnapoets 7, Jan. 2011

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

[in the new year . . .]

in the new year
can I shed this too-tight skin,
the days of clouded sight
until my eyes grow clear?

first published in Eucalypt electronic challenge Year of the Snake 2013