Aug 8 2016

quietly trumpeting
songs of solace

in a world filled with
shard and degradation

i am lost
i am silence
i am beauty

standing bent
but barely broken

i am thirst
i am hunger
i am courage

bleeding scent to
shadowed corners

i am beauty
i am silence
i am found
.

.

.


Jun 7 2016

the space between

.

holds everything

.

.

.

.


May 21 2016

my garden grows {1}

.

she nods her head

at everything

.

agrees to nothing

.

.

.


May 17 2016

the prayer

or the belief, at least, that somehow
morning always comes with a sun bold or hidden
bringing new chairs to sit in
beneath a ripe old sky
and gnarled hands knitting hope
by the basket
full
of memory and knotted bits
all the stars you gave
away
and all the sunshine
you gathered

.

.

.


May 14 2016

starched

clean white corona

pulled from hard-packed earth

both more

and less

fragile

than

sky

.

.

.


May 12 2016

daisy daisy

.

and hummingbirds, too

.

tree frogs and sunshine

and a big bowl of sky for breakfast

.

my heart dances on the morning

when spring came to town

.

.

.


May 10 2016

hey, jupiter

i’m pinning all my hopes on you
tired of this ride and this blue tide and
this ancillary stream
of consciousness
you pull my way
every day
may
slips away
weeds twining
up parallel ankles
everything’s growing
and this mud is downhill shifting and
i’m pinning all my hopes on you

.

.

.


Apr 8 2016

a picture of a flower

is not the same as a flower
but neither is a picture of a person

either way

a tulip sings of hope
and i
always listen
because if you can grow
even after
being cut

there is a story

.

.

.

A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month. Day 8
I’m participating in NaPoWriMo, and Writer’s Digest Poem a Day Challenge
Today’s theme is a combo of NaPoWriMo’s flowers, and PAD’s: write a doodle poem.

.


Mar 31 2016

the everlasting fragility
of parchment

.

or

forever

as long as you

never

touch

.

.

.

.


Jan 26 2016

built from thorn and
bits of sunlight

carried high above the sea of sky

(to keep from drowning, of course)

brittle fragile biting hiding

beauty

in a storm of hollow

promise

.

.

.