she died not so long ago
/
my body knows
it quivers into december,
as warm wreaths brighten up lampposts
set against skies rich with winter coming
Missed kindergarten
/
a backpack is full of hope and adventure
and discovery of who that precious child will become
in this strange formidable world that all children are called to conquer
Winter, two poems
/
and it is like this every year
when the axis of earth dares change its mind,
and when the memories of past winters
turn to crystals in the air
Read More
infrasound
/
the cells in my body tell me that she’s not gone,
just whisked away
like egg whites in a soufflé
or snowmelt in a mudslide
stone pillows
/
sometimes I pull out
my old map of the world
it’s foreign now, but recognizable
the familiar landscapes are still there
I just can’t visit them anymore