“what I lack is myself”
—Susan Howe
The door’s full like words
in an open mouth,
blotting out the space
it opened onto.
An entrance becomes a wall,
an allowed space disallowed,
as keys and locks
become ritual.
Such small sacrifice
the tongue becomes,
burning clear
any lost syllables.
Nothing’s left to say;
everything’s unsaid.
Yes, even today—
as dark devours day,
light breaks the night.
(December 11, 2019)
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
A door blows open;
I wake to a storm.
A familiar room whirls
in disarray. Fear dares
for someone to speak.
(May 17, 2019)
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
If one can accept
the slow rain, one
must acquiesce
to the flood. I do not
know what to say, or
what to believe
between the lies
which bear down
daily like a press.
Yet, even exhausted,
I still step out
singing the sun.
(May 14, 2019)
I need someone to tell me–
I’m okay– I can make it
through this day— unashamed,
as do we all.
I need someone to hold me
closely through this night
of terrors– calm and unafraid,
as do we all.
(May 4, 2019)
from “Renditions of Change” a work in progress
Speaking truth to myself
is difficult—as to power,
just more dangerous: no
compromise with evil,
nor abatement.
(April 10, 2019)
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
At night a light
exposes one, opens
like a wound to bleed
out into the dark.
I want to stay
hidden within
my secrets, to hold
my desires close
like a small flame.
It’s safe there, stitched
tight between muscle
and bone, waiting
to enkindle a better day.
(March 23, 2019)
from “Change,” a work in progress
Our government horrifies me,
and I feel powerless–
Each day I read and talk
with my students;
they exude such optimism
and hope, I’m humbled.
A slight breeze stirs
the oak leaves;
dawn breaks slowly
over all.
(January 25, 2019)
from “Change,” a work in progress
Poetry, like dark earth,
contains my strength.
(January 24, 2019)
There is less to do,
less to talk about now.
Where do I lay
my belief like a sack
full of rocks? When
do I shuck off
the tired traces
and stand unburdened?
There is no where
to go, but here–
and finally I have come
to a place I have
always been unknown,
a place that is mine.
(September 18, 2018)
