i am full
no
i am whole
i’ve always been whole
i just sat myself down
at the wrong table
i was hungry
no
i was starved
you served hot air
and boiled lies
i added spice
running fingers
through straight plate lines
of drizzled down salt
(someone else’s tears,
crystallized)
i drank all the water
and folded my napkin
an unused swan
taking shape
on the grey chipped platter
of sweet stale tender
and timeworn
overused
coin
…
planting a seed
is the purest form of hope
gathering bits
of wither and dry
just to bury them again
in deep dark places
this is also magic
or miracle
witchever you prefer
a garden never fails
to ground you
embrace you
in its heartless
beautiful mess
if you listen
roots are always
whispering
history and herstory
running deep beneath hard beds
of mud and promise
sun and storm
harsh wind and captured
lightning
and you
determine
nothing
i am the woman
who
saves cards and
old ribbons
in cupboards with
pale blue jars
spins trees
from yarn
and tales
from saplings
sings louder than
bold crows
just to see them cut
black sky
burns bridges
and receipts
with both indifference
and aplomb
carries all of it
up hope mountain
to send down
avalanche and thrill
looks in the mirror
and understands:
loving you was never
my maxim
: :
i did it anyway
: :
twenty-one years later
that’s what we call it
not nine eleven oh one
not September 11, 2001
just
nine eleven
two words
three digits
two towers
four planes
thousands
of
mothers
fathers
daughters
sons
sisters
brothers
wives
husbands
aunts
uncles
girlfriends
boyfriends
not statistics
falling
from
the
sky
not dates
or where were you’s
just whole hearts
in odd numbers
each one
the only necessary
evidence
of love
::
.
.
.
windows
wide open
for a moment
of fresh
inhale
exhale
bounce off
horizon
bird song dawn
and sunset singing
we’re all here
spreading green
it’s all new
all old
the same
same
circle
always here
lending
a hand
…
twenty years later
that’s what we call it
not nine eleven oh one
not September 11, 2001
just
nine eleven
two words
three digits
two towers
four planes
thousands
of
mothers
fathers
daughters
sons
sisters
brothers
wives
husbands
aunts
uncles
girlfriends
boyfriends
not statistics
falling
from
the
sky
not dates
or where were you’s
just whole hearts
in odd numbers
each one
the only necessary
evidence
of love
::
.
.
.
i built a new corner
and walked straight into it
left the paint on the floor
drying
held my arms high and my head straight
buried the forgotten
forgave the remembered
worshiped nothing
but silence
and the tenacity
of trees
throwing spring green buds
into air
like so much
confetti
squirrel fight
dove coo
blue jay belligerent
.
skin soaking up sun
anti mirror
wide smile
prismatic
.
desiderata
forgotten
.
and she walked
the center line
straight past the pond
of forgiveness
.
the right thing
is almost never
the easiest thing
and i watch you
doing everything
the hard way
taking root
in the furrow
of new growth
this morning the sun
strode straight past
the center of longing
we’re both here
(or there)
dawning
…
nineteen years later
that’s what we call it
not nine eleven oh one
not September 11, 2001
just
nine eleven
two words
three digits
two towers
four planes
thousands
of
mothers
fathers
daughters
sons
sisters
brothers
wives
husbands
aunts
uncles
girlfriends
boyfriends
not statistics
falling
from
the
sky
not dates
or where were you’s
just whole hearts
in odd numbers
each one
the only necessary
evidence
of love
::
.
.
.
