Posts
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Do You Hear the Raven Call?
A wingspan of ash, she scours the sky for signs of a way forward.
Beneath, the writhing landscape of a future so foreign we cannot yet comprehend which color she will be.
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The Eclipse
Melts the sun
With her ferocity– stripped away,
Turned into fragility,We gasp as moon swallows sun.
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We are in a Crisis
We call it: “catastrophe,” as if — it is different.
A child nursed of negligence.
Yes, it is not ours —
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Veiled in Briar Roses
In the skeletal frame of a fence,
nestled deep in the overgrown wiring,
Where vines wind up and veins wrap down:
a ribcage, constructed by their love, nurtures love.
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Woodland Grove
And your dark, knotted hair falls,
trailing along and settling
in the crevice of collarbone,
ravine of spine,
Loves
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It’s absurd
I think it’s absurd
How we define best
And how we define worst
You must be smart
But not too smart
Never ugly
But you can’t look too pretty
That means your trying to hard
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Now is a tree
Now is a tree,
a place that is made of history.
Feel with your fingers
for lines etched in the bark,
the future is there
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Vermont's World Tree
I’ve seen a million sunsets and sunrises, yet each day still dawns with new surprises. As the sun peaks its golden rays over the green mountains, Vermont’s future stretches out with new horizons.
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Summer stars
may,
nearly beginning of summerto celebrate, I wear fishnet tights with stars and moons,
a NASA t-shirt,
and a moon necklacenew season of summer, fast approaching
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To Be a Poet
To be a poet is not to write poems.
No.
Most anyone can do that.
Most anyone has done that,
for school, maybe.
To be a poet is to see a tree