Ecstatic Tanka
for years thinking you were my jailer these unyielding bars today finding the key in my own pocket
View ArticleFive Undoings
wearing that story for so long I forgot I had slipped it on * bad hem day— tripping on my own once upon a time * rumors of my self catch on morning sun, snag on the wake of herons * with one hand, I...
View ArticleSame Dream, New Ending
I don’t know my lines. That is always the case, only this time, the props were not set, either, and I am frantically baking popovers for the first act. Five minutes before curtain, I tell the other two...
View ArticleFinn Learns Cursive
It begins as a dark wing arcing up, then cart wheeling high, swooping down, then back up to a point before diving as falcons do toward the earth with great straightness, curving up at the very last...
View ArticleRich Beyond Wishing
(though love be a day and life be nothing, it shall not stop kissing) –e. e. cummings, Thy Fingers Make Early Flowers Make me then a flower that is unashamed of blooming. And make me a river...
View ArticleIt’s an Inside Job
Before we can be what we are meant to be, we must accept what we are not. –Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening , June 29 Bird in a cage every day she drops the seeds till beneath her then all around her...
View ArticleAnd the Polar Bear Sat in the Shade
The sea lion swims in the glass-framed pond with his eyes closed. Lap after lap, he barely seems to move his great webbed feet, his smooth gray body flexes and curves. I try to imagine his eyes are...
View ArticleThis Very Here
And then came the day when I knew to stop asking to be anywhere else, when somehow I no longer believed any other garden was better than this one, when I wanted only these weeds and this field. There...
View ArticleConcourse B
She walks so easily down the concourse, the young woman in the short dress and sandals, her purse slung across her slender shoulder. She’s not encumbered by much that I can see— no children pulling on...
View ArticleThat Was the Saturday When
This morning when she pours the milk into the child’s cup, she doesn’t stop. She pours until the cup is full, until it spills across the counter, ’til it spills onto the floor. She pours and pours...
View ArticleLove Bent the Bars
hiding in this cage felt so safe until I began to notice what else was hiding in this cage
View ArticleFive Undoings
wearing that story for so long I forgot I had slipped it on * bad hem day— tripping on my own once upon a time * rumors of my self catch on morning sun, snag on the wake of herons * with one hand, I...
View ArticleRunoff
We are perhaps like the plover who made her nest in the rocks too close to the river’s edge. The water is rising rapidly. We never expected loss. We almost forgot that we have wings.
View ArticleFive Undoings
wearing that story for so long I forgot I had slipped it on * bad hem day— tripping on my own once upon a time * rumors of my self catch on morning sun, snag on the wake of herons * with one hand, I...
View ArticleWhile Her Stoic Portrait
This morning when she pours the milk into the child’s cup, she doesn’t stop. She pours until the cup is full, until it spills across the counter, ’til it spills onto the floor. She pours and pours...
View ArticleJust Before the Credits Roll
In the movie, that’s not being made, the one I star in, my character, who looks exactly like me, is mowing the lawn, exactly like me, only when I go to put the lawnmower away by the barn, she...
View ArticleConcourse B
She walks so easily down the concourse, the young woman in the short dress and sandals, her purse slung across her slender shoulder. She’s not encumbered by much that I can see— no children pulling on...
View ArticleOne Release
you the red kite I thrill to fly— and me cutting the line, learning I, too, can fly
View ArticleThe Guru Said Stop Putting on the Brakes
from a dream inspired by Sharon And I tried. I tried. Except steep hills. Except stop signs. Except fear. Then one day, the brake simply didn’t work anymore. I thought perhaps I’d forgotten...
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