Wednesday, December 31, 2014


How a day can be so bleak gray 
yet prism'd pierced with solace 
branches sway in a wind sent to remind us of our mortality 
thin-walled fragility of our shared humanness 
gold finches blissfully ignore all loneliness 
to savor seed & other feathered fluff company 
sun dips lower to the western horizon 
in measured cadence to the moon's promise 
winter ... 
bookmark this hour 
light a candle 
for warmer days .... 

Sunday, December 21, 2014

turn of the card ...

the crone's bones become my own
raven-feather-black as december's midnight 
no gradual mutation ... no
it is now 
this ancient hourglass impact 
a single cello plays somewhere to the west 
I tremble at the quake of the redbuds leaves 
quixotic felted breath of breeze
upon skin freckled & creased
where in furrows hide 
regret, loss & redemption 
pale knots of celtic myth & mingle 
as prism'd comes the day
brittle the knowledge of sacrifice
buoyant the joy of love
in these crone bones 

Saturday, December 20, 2014

one moment

i will grasp 
hold on loosely - ( thank you Wild-Eyed Southern Boys
-as if there is an equation for that-
the tattered ribbons of our humanness 
fragility ruby-pink & dusty with forgetfulness
hold on 
but brimmed with sweetness
the electric fire of our soul burns 
with this invincible thread of connection 
saffron starred & tender
smelling of fresh mown grass, sex and shortbread
pierced to the marrow of our shared quilted sorrow & joy
steeled, but yielding
broken, but not
present, but removed to the blue of the coming solstice sky 
snow is in the forecast
bring it 
taste the snowflake upon your tongue
this is life