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Wildfire

LAthe afternoon is sienna and smokydry as a brick and rough like the wrinkles of old agethe crickets have lost their song, their legs strewn in the cracks of the sidewalki see you crawling slowlyleaving gray widows in yo…
My Child, My Dream

could i hold you in my palm breathe into you life, a segment of my own the ridges of warmth at your back, pulsing with my heart cultivate in you dreams, dreams that are dormant dreams with potential to bloom, hidden when…
Before Summer Rain

Before Summer Rain by Rainer Maria Rilke Suddenly, from all the green around you, something-you don't know what-has disappeared; you feel it creeping closer to the window, in total silence. From the nearby wood you hea…
Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened…
i wake up holding my own hands the red digits of the clocks floating in the dim morning or evening the hours i sleep are no longer contiguous and like angry waves, they rip apart the hulls of the ships carrying my dreams…
If

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you But make allowance for their doubting too, If you can wait and …
Beautiful Futures

someday will someone tell me that i am beautiful? and will he say it earnestly, in rhythm with my breath? will he tell me with the full volume of his voice or at the least, with the full brevity of his heart someday, w…
ode to the top

until the night pours out its darkness the bristles of starshine treading the streets a somber headlight strikes the driveway searing fluidly across the path like bow-strokes i'm holding the collar of your shirt closed …
Sensation In the blue summer evenings, I will go along the paths, And walk over the short grass, as I am pricked by the wheat: Daydreaming I will feel the coolness on my feet. I will let the wind bathe my bare h…
Drawers

the drawers are agape their contents askew like the expired bedsheets it's a new May Day with new birdsong and sunlight but in their mouths are the same comforts of old the socks wrapped into little cocoons in which but…