We will never recover the time
Inside as spring bloomed, fall blazed
Roots have grown white, untended
Out of arm’s reach, winter even colder.
Continue Reading »The fatted calf awaits
its unbeknownst sacrifice
not the only to suffer the forgiven’s return.
The foal heat signals
false readiness, coupling too soon
for my body to sustain.
The feared self manifests
the dreaded future here
my transformation inescapable.
The fluted glass prolongs
effervescence, bubbles float up, tickle your nose
before I sour and flatten.
The fated poem writes
and rewrites itself, ushers
me out of silence, into existence.
Posted in Poetry, Transformation | 2 Comments »
He spoke of watching the hummingbird bring soft fuzz and leaves
high in the sequoia in the front yard. He watched it turn around
and form it with its vibrating tail feathers and tiny humming bottom,
circling like a dog before settling in, readying it for its mate. He told
of the days that came and went with no more activity, the nest unfinished.
He wondered if it had died in the outbreak of mold and bacteria-infected
feeders also killing goldfinches, evening grosbeaks, pine siskins, the year
the humans were forced indoors.
Continue Reading »Posted in Hummingbirds, Love, Moon/moonlight, Wind, Winter | 2 Comments »
Why not believe that the mouse fell in love with him?
That despite the pull of this ardor, he exiled her
for making too much noise, gnawing on the bookcases.
Continue Reading »Posted in Existential, Love, Writing | 2 Comments »
Colors emerge at night, programmed. No trace of the human hand, no flick of a wrist.
Continue Reading »Posted in Coming home, Death/Loss/Grief, Guanajuato, Isolation/Belonging, México, Pacific Northwest, Travel | Leave a Comment »