Wednesday, June 15, 2016

constrained (2011)


CONSTRAINED

This is to love:
to wear your future like a coat

To walk it like a thin sharp road
between thick bristling silence
overgrown

Your long bones, wide back enfold me
you are the wooden walls that hold me

This is to love:
to take for spectacles
your two brown eyes,
these windows

of my home

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

invitation (2010)

From Love Songs for Dennis 

 
INVITATION

This is love: to wait inside
my own four walls, to grow
my garden, its pomegranates,
ripe apples, fragrant cinnamon—
and, too, its patches of hackberry,
poison oak,
its unweeded abundance of
illchosen words—
To offer these my fruits,
bruised or halfripe, into your hand:

To say “come in,”
unbeautiful, but sure

Monday, May 16, 2016

How greenly leaves rejoice, when it has rained
(waxy or tender, serrate, eggpocked, lobed)
Their veins run weighed

with thick green praise
And in each leaf: each chloroplast, each cell
Sings its Holy! Holy! A thousand thousand,
countless voices swell

in each one leaf
To see one singing, teeming, eager hand
flung out, meek and fearless, to grow, to feed
with its unseeable

small givings and receivings
Unbearable its hope! For human hearts
are grown too narrow, and too etiolate
to hold such weight

of bold rejoicing
as surges in the cells of one green leaf.
And God is kind. He grants our eyes relief
with tens, with hundreds--

We can bear thousands.
 To our scraped hearts, leaves in their thousands drown
each leafsong's thousandfold rejoicing sound
in one great peace

of green

Monday, May 2, 2016

This Might Just Be My Lucky Day

Oatmeal for breakfast,
 And when we went outside
It turned all gray and rainy
Before we got to slide.

We started reading stories,
But Felix threw a fit.
Mom said he's teething.
I think he should quit.

I asked to get my paints out,
But Mommy said "We'll see."
And then when it was snack time
There wasn't any cheese.

I spilled milk on my pony shirt.
I colored on my chair.
I pushed my little brother
Because he pulled my hair.

Mommy started yelling
And then she kicked the door
And then she started crying
Cause she couldn't do her chores.

Today is not a favorite day
For any of us three.
I think that if I ask my Mom
She'll let us watch TV.



Saturday, April 9, 2016

Haiku fail (March - April)

Even the birds are
lazy. Slow whistlers. The sun
creeps up, yawns pale red yawns
Half dreaming still her cool
blue dreams.
***
Dawn light: dust films patched
screens, cakes in window creases.
Birdsong pours in like water.
***
Scent of hills waking
under blue and lavender.
Down below the cliffs
urgent river gathers up
the slow hooting of a faroff train.
Delivers it, sound only
now, and lonely,
to the slow rolling to
morning shift:
stirs and twitters
rustles, shivers, new
***
Mars red, the ant heaps
wait like bombs. Invisibly
their millions, seething.
***
Joy waddles on fat unsteady
Fearless legs. Lurches into
Each dandelion
Revelation
***
Each tree echoes with
Argument. Birdchat, windchat
April is crammed with
Secrets--a constant spilling
Of thrilling beans--even
The lawnmowers are turning it over
In their low drones:
I've heard (listen!) -- Believe it!
Ringing--receiving--Really!
Incorrigible Spring!
***
Frivolous azalea
shakes out her skirts in lovestruck
thumbthick bees. Such ruffles!
Ridiculous pink!

Friday, April 8, 2016

baby

New grief sat sharp in my mouth
a thinedged stone
or broken glass

it pressed heavy on my throat
i could not swallow

Like a lost tooth
or a sore new wound
i probed it

Scraped it against my tongue until
spit and blood filled my mouth
bitter

until i learned its edges
until its edges (week by week) dissolved
in tears

sometimes i almost forget
grief worn smooth and warm
round and creamy as a pearl

i Tell it now like beads
with prayer, with thanks
this precious sweet small grief






Friday, March 25, 2016

Birth day

Little pearl, little bud, little bird
curled, never hatching

i held you furled and fingerless
in lightless warmth
my bones were singing for you

we had not even wrapped you up
in a name, or names --

I hold you in my dim mind, still,
eyeless--lustrous
contained and secret as a pearl.

We are two stones
within one hand. One blind
pebble. And you sparking
bold faceted

you, named, unfolding
in what brilliant frills
in bright beholding

Not waiting, pearl unfurled
my day for birth--