Today, advice from my brother
Who gave me a gift on his birthday
When he was nine or ten or eight
Colored sand in a bottle
Purple and pink and yellow
Maybe, I don’t have the bottle
But I have that thought
He gave me a gift on his birthday
The Three of Us
My fingers press to my stomach
Under four layers of clothing
The core of me is warm and giving
My hands are freezing
I walk like that for a few minutes
Hugging myself through the juxtaposition
Of heat and cold across the skin of my belly
The Machine
What are the mechanics
Of creating my own voice
What gears do I need to turn
What sounds do I need to hear
Until I recognize the sound
Of my thoughts loud and clear
Power
Power, grounded in my heels
Hardening beneath my skin
It vibrates slowly and when I look closer
Endlessly
Anything, anything, anything
It says
Just begin
Colors of My Mother
For my mother, on her birthday. The color of peach or salmon hues Reminds me of my mother As do washed nylons hanging from the […]
Time Stop
I look for it while / the morning is still dark / my blankets still warm / sounds of sleep louder than waking
The Door
I stare at the closed door
While ages passed, or more
Wondering what I could find
Looking at what’s left behind
For the day of love
I wrote in an old poem
In the depths of Before
Do you think I’ll believe in love after this?
On the Ice
There was a day in the winter
Where we walked out on the ice
Great frozen waves cresting on the lakeshore
Blinding white but for our dark coats