no stories to tell
but the same ones
the ones i’ve told
the ones I’ve heard
from mothers, from sisters
fathers, brothers
the ones hidden in ritual
the ones not in the tale
yet somehow parallel
(November9, 2024)
Category: elemental
-
how much must be
etched across the glass
like ice across the lake
before I can hear
the ravens in the wood
caw out their hunger
before the dark wings’
fluttered descent disguises
the sharp peck and pull
that is my final vision
what silence waits
as an echo’s first reflection
before it wraps itself again
around the trees like snow
(December 24, 2020)
-
from a work in progress: “process, not a journey”(73)
beneath this static
this white noise
silence flows
unnoticed
pervasive
the river’s source
as in prayer i kneel
cup my hands
and drink
(July 9, 2020)
-
from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (18)
I’ve been here before
floating adrift frightened
the water is cold
–
a door opens
I walk through an emptiness
to arrive in another
–
I’ve been here before
this time the people are blue
and the music hasn’t started
–
a door opens
air rushes in
to fill the space
–
I don’t want to repeat
but no one is listening
and patterns are seductive
–
years later
the same song plays
I dance alone
–
I’ve been here before
a door opens
I step through
–
there is no dream
there is no metaphor
the wind is silent
(January 23, 2020)
-
As years
of protective layers
ignited, then fell
away into ash,
the first
puff of air
from your lips
slipped through
my divisions
like water spilling
over earthen levees,
until I drowned.
(April 29, 2018)
subtext 