Wednesday, May 30, 2012

366 Days: I Won't Forget

Love the ghost woman
who lives lightly there
inside of you
like a cool velvet-green lake.
Skim stones on her surface
circle wide around 

the child you hold too tightly.
Enter the disintegrating shelter
on a timbered trail,
devour the porcelain windowpanes
celebrate the mountains of freedom
you chose.
Answer with a blush.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

366 Days: Roots (Day 135)

The springtime rain is falling
and the road is filled with longing.

I realize, this is such a worn cliche.
But when you love with wild abandon
sometimes you are left standing
underneath a wilting apple tree.
The fruit falls bruised and battered.
Your fragile heart is shattered.
But the roots, the roots will set you free.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

366 Days: Still Here, Still Writing

Childhood, 1934
Do you remember our childhood?
There was the empty schoolyard.
There was a gnarled dogwood tree, white blossoms,
smell of brushfires scenting the air.
It was hot that summer,
sweltering, you bent before me
writing secrets on the dusty ground.
Late evenings cooled off.
Daddy brought us ice chips
and laughed at the chickens, clucking and pecking.
Yes! How could I forget this? Yes!
We were girls together.
Dripping beads of water, tasting dust.
We saw the sun going down. Going down.
Watching our mother’s back
as she waltzed away.
Forgive her.
Forgive us.