I watch the words fall

I watch the words fall

Like raindrops

On a windshield

Slipping, connecting

Forming streams

And forging rivers

I watch the words

As if they were not my own

As if they came from

Somewhere else outside me

For I have lost them once

And sometimes the fear of silence

Blinds me

So I watch the words fall

Like raindrops

As if they fall from the skies

Though they fall
from my own

Gold specked





I look into the glass

It is melting

My reflection



Like waves through my hands

A tidal wave

Everything is ephemeral

Everything is rice at a wedding

Trampled underfoot

The light refracts

With a misstep

We broke our mothers’ backs

It was a long labor

And the pangs echo

Like the end of the world

It is coming

Like a train

And like a tornado

Like the last rain

Before the flood



Morning Battle

I do not battle


In the morning

I do not battle

The sadness

Not really

My battle is

The darkness



By the dawning

There is a trumpet sound


There is a battle cry

In the silence

There is a battle drum

Inside us

While the deaf world

Is stretching and yawning

Yes, we hear the darkness

In the dawning

I can hear the birds again

I can hear the birds again

Feel the sun fill up the room

And smell the freshness of the grass

In the dew like April rain

I can feel the words again

In my pen tip quivering

Waiting for awakening

This this this

Is everything

I can feel the pain recede

Slipping down my spine like


All the mothers tell their daughters

It will be alright again.

Yes, here inside my wounded head

Resting there above my eyes

Once aching, empty, stonelike, dead

Something something

Gently rise

Years of heart sore, twisting pain

Gives way to birdsong

And to rain

Blackberries in the Afterglow

Blackberries in the afterglow

This is June

Sighing that long sigh

That I am close to you

And the daughter in the unmown grass is swaying

In her Maid Marion gown

With purple stains all the way down

And there are so many unknowns

But we are not afraid of oceans

The little boy with the brown eyes

Says something precocious

And I am making snapshots in my mind for you

I’m taking notes

Of everything I want to share with you

While I’m dreaming of boats

Gymnopedies Revolving

Between my ribs there is a longing

Lilt by lilt, chord by chord,

I hear Gymnopedies revolving

Through my fingers, like fine silt

More and more the voice is calling

The narrator clears her throat

Like a stewardess

In a fresh pressed dress

Like a one-woman show


She smirks. She throws a look.

I know

A pause, and then Gymnopedies

Because it’s playing on repeat

I feel the chords

Inside my hands

Half-listening to her commands

It calms me as she says by rote

How to – in danger – keep afloat


The danger isn’t in the sea

Or in the fire or on the wing

The danger’s in the deafness of

A mind-altering suffering

Or so I thought

Her voice was gone

I could not find it anywhere

Through the sealing of my ears

In the heightened atmosphere

I worried that the pain would end

Forever words that once roamed free

But pain’s a kind of currency

When your trade is poetry


So now with better strength, I stand

And rummage through the pockets of

Five years of grit and overcoats

To find loose change and dental gum

With this, perhaps, I’ll pay my dues

With this, perhaps, I’ll slowly chew

My ears will pop. I’ll hear her rant

As we ascend above the land

And as we slip above the sea

I’ll hum to the Gymnopedies