Posts
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For you and the haying fields behind your house
Every October I think
of you, standing beside that creek,
with your rain boots and your bag and your hands,
holding onto me.
Every October I read
your poems. I run your words
through my head on repeat. -
Feather fallout
In the morning I watch the mountains fade into the cream of the sunrise and count the seconds before the fog lifts. -
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Peanut butter crackers and the inevitable ghosts of tomorrow
Today I found you in the peanut butter aisle. I stood there for a moment, frozen by the possibilty of your expression as you turned and recognized me and tried to think of what to say. -
To the Fig Tree on Koloĉep Island
When I say “fig”
I do not mean the kind
you get at the supermarket
in a clear plastic tub.
I do not mean the kind
that is shriveled, and brown,
and crackles when cleaved open -
Cinnamon, turmeric, and the dust in the corners
Who has a heart so wide to kneel on the floor and look up at me with big brown eyes and say the words I had been rehearsing since I rounded that corner and saw you there and didn't stop looking and wanted you to see?
