Poetry 2017-12-28T00:45:10+00:00

January 2018

winter collection

cracking winter arrived early bringing the clouds down low to the tips of trees at the tops of the hills so it felt like I was in the mountains the high peaks came to me since I could not visit them pores that had allowed room to breathe became fault lines crevasses when water seeped in and froze, expanded the [...]


soft smooth skin plump reddened cheeks spider web wispy hair ending in airy curls sunlightened I am the mountain time is the river rushing you down away from me leaves me old tall barren cold at night in purple early winter light I watch you tumble over rocks disappear ever farther away I am longing for the time when we [...]

jacque cousteau’s clamshell

hurry hurry run no, drive no, fly we need to go we need to get to— and then you’ll have your last breath leave behind your children, grandchildren to sit in your refuse as their mitochondria imbibe plastic become a new (partially) synthetic species there is always a genocide going on this time we are wiping out our entire species [...]


as a child I leapt out of bed before my eyes were full open ran to see what would greet me a young woman jumped landed with her feet flat on the floor hurried to make a dent, press her person against the firmament now I slowly allow shapes, sounds, light—to dance softly about me, coerce me into embodiment; let [...]

mountain ocean

dark blue clouds cling to the deep forest green as sunlight awakens making late autumn mountain slope look like mid summer promise of a long, hot, bright, windy day I love when our sky reflects  shades of ocean a million miles away

pink sky

pink sky as the sun rises shows her feminine side for a change last night, after she set jet streams high above were still lit in that hue as the rest of us fell under darkness pulling jackets close beginning to scurry indoors leaving behind the squirrels who are eating out the faces of the pumpkins left on stoops two [...]


we arrive at the city park and I first notice the trampled grass the used space the lack of surprise but she instantly cries with delight as she grabs a yellow dandelion hands me the gift grabs a dandelion wisp blows it into gleeful dust when did I stop noticing


sweeping across the sky towards not south arcing in ingrained formation showing me rhythm, flight surrender to the inevitable slanted light now makes them look darker, blacker the blue behind deeper I should gather acorns in preparation for my own hibernation find berries in my pockets secreted by my daughter on cool autumn morning walks she squirrels them away must [...]