Friday, November 17, 2017

November 17th

the morning leans open
mild as an April
yet here we sit in mid-November
it should be brisk--snap--brittle--chill
but it is this ...
this portal of spring stranded against the soft blue blue sky
pressed between the panes of summer & frost
forty-eight degrees and rising
riding
a rolling south breeze teasing leaves golden brown
everything is a golden brown ... amber hued
this
the blue jay circling the hackberry tree knows the truth
knows the magic of this brilliant morning
mild as an April

Thursday, November 9, 2017

tyto alba


...the wing span of a barn owl is 42 inches
42 inches of ghost feathers & furl 
lifted on particle currents of atmosphere 
dip & dive
dip & dive 
silent nocturnal flyer 
dip & dive 
find me  
there in slumber beneath worry & bramble 
trembling in stasis 
exultant in dark possibility 
wrapped in skin with age & aspirin 
awaiting your sharp golden piercing 
dip & dive
and
capture 
me 


epiphany













mid-day shadows
and
a

longing

for a space upon which to gather berries & silence
thorned & violet as cotton acanthium

bring me quiet truth
splashing against sinew & marrow
wide & pale as fragility

still 

hushed birdsong & anthem
hushed to lines bold & blue
hush...
i will wear feathers
and
      find you

davis avenue


underneath the sofa
a perfect place to lay
tucked and pajama-footed
my secret hide-a-way

yellow flannel-orange blossoms
perfect blend between
nylon threads, vanilla walls
picture-window tv screen

parents glued to Carson
no one saw me sneak
along the shadows of a room
to risk the chance to peek

grown-ups had this cocktail life
up late with cigarettes and rye
criss-cross-applesauced behind the sofa
pony-tailed-bobby-socked spy

watching the world unfold from there
my vantage a hushed thrill
if I could only turn back time
you'd find me nested still

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Aconitum napellus

deep-blue
necromancer
tucked along the crease between worlds
pastures
plains
and sunrise sofa cushions
whatever 
discarded in feather canyons & forgiveness
winds still as morning turns gray
paused here on the cusp of snow
emptiness feels tight--boa constrictor tight
sorrow purple rolling up the tendrils & traces of time
tick--tock
tuberous nevermore to ponder the space between leaves & leaving
white-blue this day
this whatever 
my body ceramic-electric
still
stone

surrender





vokzal














What is it that attracts?
that pulling together of fragments:
moths to flame
hands to hearts
ink to page 
polarized metal
butter to knives 
skin to skin
eyes to the garden of possibility 
tetthered 
to 
aubergine rye-whiskey dreams
the torn edges of leather coats
and
childhood gardens
a myriad of particles collide in recogniton 
something shared 
something desired 
gestures seem innocous
thrown down as carmine on leaves 
and borealis wounds 
a minutiae of fluttered moments hanging breathless
the plethora of pleasure gleamed in the capture 
intellect to intention 
light to shadow
close to open 
wings to weather 

magnectic north 
lies in the curve 
of you 

Friday, October 27, 2017

night visible


willow-curly
trembled femininity pursued against the chipped & sullen gray
sun upside-down hedge-apple-cake
words buried under the red-yellows of fall
falling
falling
winter eager at the gate of white-evermore
as
the porcelain berry sings of
indigo-blue stillness
a dream of evening's new moon
willow-curly hanging moments