Posts
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Highways
It’s a clear day. The sky is blue. The grass is green. And we are driving down the highway. The journey is marked by spastic bursts of conversation and a chunkily categorized landscape. I press my nose to the glass and point. -
Prayer book
I wanted to experience Catholicism, the ritual of eating God on a dreary Sunday morning. So last winter, I hauled myself up the hill to St. -
Wet Paper
Our eyelids slowly fold,
your fingernails creasing my skin
as you tell me not to cry.
Suppressed by geometry,
there’s no room for imprecision
in our origami sorrow.
There will come a day,
when wet and wrinkled, -
Schrödinger's Cat
The refrigerator has skin.
It hums, cold through the cold night, singing to itself.
There is an emptiness wound into our mechanisms.
In the dark, I poured myself a cup of orange juice. -
Cherry Tree, Blossoming
Cherry tree, you flourish in so many fragile ways.
I shelter under your bare boughs, waiting for spring.
Time moves delicately, upward with splayed fingers.
We sit together, cold and open to loose clouds. -
Hidden
It’s a delicate thing, living,
waiting to notice the sun.
Twisted, like a autumn leaf,
I turned with your breath.
Our fingers were tangled,
together, made to be one.
Loves
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Roads & Rails
Sometimes,
they think the forests must have been constructed,
around the railroad.
That the tracks were built up from Earth long ago,
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The Lonely Beetle
The green lonely beetle tracked long through high rivers and the underpass.
By 6 pm it delivered a little girl with crooked cut bangs to a little tan house.
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Paper Swans
Paper Swans
As the paper swan swims
The wind blows around it
As the paper airplane flies
The rain falls
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Vulnerable love
Crescent moon eyes with cheeks bunched up below
A smile and laugh that creates warm swells
The small moments of interest you show
You ask what I am doing, so I tell.
You tease, I tease back — these moments cherished
