I’ve never seen a swallow fly so high, batted about like a shred of plastic the finches have the loveliest songs, probably in admiration of their own jewel -throated elegance the quails are more reticent and speak mostly in numbers, so prone to alarm and what am I, well into a bottle of white, settled on the deck where just below my feet I think some bird has made its nest under the corner planks, more […]
Them birds againand their themes of peace and reconciliation I was feelinghopeful last night butrealized it was far too comfortable; hope, if anything,a nerve exposed. No, it was somethingelse I felt, a trick of the mind designedto protect, ancient as our diving reflex, as fight or flight, something animal, a kindness to cushion the blow
The half-life of doubt is 3.5 days It’s now been five The rain came in overnightand tufts of cloud sat right on the mountain pass The Skykomish was acolor not yet named and all along the drive petrichor gave wayto verdure new growth on the maples the snow receding foothills bared by the shoulder season ski lifts toothpicks in scale There is nothing like a mountain to fill in a loss, to crowd out thoughts to measure passage It’s been a month at least since I saw the […]
Another dream. You’re never dreaming, only seeing lakes and trees, and if the breeze stirs some childhood reminiscence it passes imperceptibly, a ship in the night. Can I settle for a just a look and just a voice? For yours, I might, and I’m not sure why. Is it a gift to see my grandfather in a leaf, to feel the chill of water even from this height? I’m not sure, either, ready to sell my soul for any sort of […]
When the morning comes, it comes, scraping along like chalk or dread and with it dust and with it doubt that settles down on the most obvious of things. Of course there was nothing else to say. It looks like rain but it won’t rain, some bird repeats the same short call oblivious of the state of things, that this morning of all mornings has come so early and I can hardly breathe for it, let […]
Pythia, a word– In the garden todayand just now above the lake I saw cages of gnats,each individual insect both attractant and repellant,and this is how I frame my question: What will become of us? Or me. I’ve realized nowthat most things are mostly empty space,starting within our cells and reachinginto our speech.
I told her to try saltwater, it heals everything I’m about to soak my hand myself, having jammed it full of splinters while transplanting, never realizing it at the time I was so caught up in nasturtiums that volunteered themselves the pain only announced itself today, rubor, calor, dolor, tumor, always too much, always too little, always too early, and always too late.
You stepped into a dream; at least in sleep I can reach you. I got a splinter in my foot while gardening today but am now used to someone being under my skin. Heard a clap of thunder but the storm never rolled in. I’m unsure as to whether it will build up or move on, but tied the vines to their stakes, just in case. (Might you read between those lines of twine? Yes. You […]
I cannot deny the very sound of a slowing jet engine or the futuristic tone of the light rail train elicits some sort of dopamine response, just the thought of not being in one place provides a subconscious lift, even while waiting in an airport cell phone lot for a late arrival, I know that sooner than not I will leave again, still unsure if I am chased myself or giving chase, but that the […]
Them birds weren’t wrong– sometimes it’s best to relax and let a thermal carry you along We sat on the rooftop for the most of the night a bird-like perch a bird’s eye view of a neighborhood we both lived in years ago but never knew and as the talk turned to the past night settled over the tops of buildings, humid and thick a comforting weight draped like a blanket laying doubts to rest.
OPTIONAL POETRY 