a poet’s levy

certain books stay hidden - those in which loss and love exist without conclusion and at times I may crack them - draw new maps to old places, new creatures of known constellations, and let the moon out into the room once more, to rest on shoulders that can bear the additional gravity a tolerable … Continue reading a poet’s levy

down east

it was late November when I drove toward Maine I still hear how the wind tore across the highway, rattling doors and nearly blowing that tired red Buick into the frozen ditch I had second, third - hell sixth thoughts on the other side of the state line, but I kept right on - forward … Continue reading down east


I love this now, and this one, and the now I carried with me then, when stumbling upon that field rampant with sunflowers so bent upon echoing the brilliancy of day, they pressed themselves flush against the belly of the yellowing sky and like photographs of loved ones, I tuck my nows between book pages, … Continue reading now


you steal the breeze and there is nothing stirring left to remind me what is breathing and in the dark hours the desert trembles green between the sorrows and the seams remembering the silence of trees and the between-times the brightness of uncaged stars and of strangers soundless touching made unstrange in hunger shared our … Continue reading breathing

at peace

it's been a year, my dear, since I shut the garden gate behind and shooed the wounded dreams away to trail mournful after happenstance and the ungraceful slant of those days no more than small disturbances now they rustle upon the edges of my feathers and along the bending tips of my grass there are … Continue reading at peace


in the hollow house the drapes hang empty and vases hold dust where lilacs once were propped by careful fingers that chair has always sat vacant though the only two who knew have gone somewhere on the winds have scattered weeds into the garden where she left rue and forget-me-nots at the time without thinking … Continue reading home