…like yesterday
This morning,of all the mornings,the moon woke me. I followed the lightof last night,and walked out to freshly plowed seedless mounds. Shadows castlike head stonesrowafterrow. And I,on this night,of all the nights,took a seed from my pocketand dropped it- in your...
God or the Mundane
no one pauses
to fold their
quiet time
into mine.
Night Sounds
I walk out to the weekends’night sounds. Mostly stale stillnessbroken only by one roused rooster and a pond-full of mid-summers’ peepers. A car, then two pass by where I’ve been walking out through a season, then a few broken only by a boy, then two as a...
To Call a Spade
We’re paralyzed by social numbing
as they fight off hunger
yet keep on running.
Candy Scores
I bought them for a dollar
at the penny candy store.
All is Art
Our lives-
stretched out like a canvas.
Your days,
home, lend the color.
Pump Pump Pump
Pump Pump Pump
Nothing.
Crumpled metal was one option
Symbiosis: An Ode to Cosmos
You, my loves,
seem to simply sway
as I come to nurture you each day,
ETA
When you knew me,
I reached for the sun.
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Butter Knife by Hollie Mcnish
“When I began to listen to poetry, it’s when I began to listen to the stones, and I began to listen to what the clouds had to say, and I began to listen to others. And I think, most importantly for all of us, then you begin to learn to listen to the soul, the soul of yourself in here, which is also the soul of everyone else.”
Joy Harjo
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