I came poor of birth I was born blue into childhood of a childhood cut from my parents’ impulses gifted second-hand a copy of a 163rd reprinting Baby and Child Care a gift of new and old it was a time when being conceived out of marriage being born was the end not a beginning…
Escape
My gaze escapes the window through the thickness of its panes grasps at a swallowing light rapacious, seeks but discovery Leaves behind the hedgerows the nascent permanence of beginnings born to me a placenta providing place Break, break, break I yearn to be rooted free, ripped, torn from ties that define and bind take, take,…
rings a bell
with a doorbell pulled I remember you always there thoughts tarnished brass etched upon childhood above Oregon grape twisted chords together chimes toll time notes love letters symbols cracked silence rings an open door invites embrace acceptance belonging like a doorbell Grandma I hear. ∞ Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry Writing Month” (#NaPoWriMo…
moonlight
I lay there — changing beneath the thin cotton sheets caught in the threads of the silver light pinpoints revealing each letter upon the pages I devoured in the thinness of the night. I lay there absorbed in the alphabet constant an ephemeral Enigma predicting into what I would with each turn metamorphosize wish I…
Earthly Habits
my Father always toiled at the earth above the rocks he kept our yard a solitude of quiet and play a kinder garten circled by the elm hedge and shaded by the twin aspen it was always home and always work. my Father always toiled at our garden on the verge of my perception I…
My Room
My room was a house on fire a room — aglow in the red REM disappearing embers dimming into night It was a room of my own preparation kindling split and stacked over yesterday news papers I’d spark It wasn’t a games room it wasn’t a Sunday afternoon…
Pops
Wrapped in grey overcast the sweet wind of spring clad in the sallow thatch spun upon the air puppy feet a naked belly my one my only holds my shoulders with calm against a conspiracy of idiocy of sit and stay closing eyes diving into…
Shoot the Birds
For my father, always as a child, the morning hour had gold in its mouth — and so roused of my bed, hot coffee in his thermos and hot chocolate in mine, he’d drive me up Black Mountain, tell me as we flew the nest, “Keep your eagle eyes peeled for the grouse” speckled in…
My Gift to You …
My childhood’s eyes a world swallowed in a mint multiplication of every deed suddenly I can master anything just like my superhero Pop I’m a star, I’m hero, I’m singer every hum a single that brings tingles a sunset arranged upon my plate a half-eaten grilled cheese a fish-tail if you please a skyscraper of…
Wanderlust
I knew but a house — for most of my childhood it was one. The only refuge I knew — it was safe and boring … it never moved, no matter how many books I devoured when all had gone to bed — I couldn’t cast away a spell onto a far away island, no…