Wednesday, June 19, 2019

Stella to the blue














in the still quiet thrum of morning
all the words have been written
no revelation
no revolution
no eureka-thesaurus moment where words & time roll into the place of always
nothing but the early thrum of day dawning

morning

stillness

a breeze barely rocking the curly willow
ghost dog curled against my back--pressing pressing
tendered always
a sky carousel-blue...unreal in hand-dipped perfection

sunshine strikes my face
eyes close
here upon a weathered-dried-in-the-sun cotton quilt
in a cicada field green-summer-golden

morning

stillness

a breeze barely rocking the curly willow
a distant thrum from rivers wide
pressing

all the words have been written
there is no more than this ...

a bluejay sings its warrior song
claiming this piece of carousel-blue
always
Stella May June

Tuesday, June 18, 2019

datum

....given a different latitude & longitude
the drape of water might have felt different

given a certain tincture of contentment
there might have been time contained within the velvet box of us

given a moon phase reflected in amber & nobility
we might not be here now

perhaps there would be cake
or the repetitive lapping splash of tides

given riches or earth resplendent in darkness biding
sunbeams hiding
beyond the atmospheres of this golden field

would we be?
would we care enough to pause in the pace & space of our hours
to notice
the tightening recognition of the impossible



Monday, June 17, 2019

venus in gemini

of a June Morning . . . this morning
wrapped in the haze of promised storms

this morning

coolness
grayness

the fullness of birdsong fills my body with a trembling vibration
my blood becomes feathered
rising
rising
to
search for the sun 

Wednesday, June 5, 2019

soul-kind


what once was
alludes & binds
a heavy cape of velvet blurs the royal lines
Oh . . . what celestial ink creates this Nebraska-blue?
veiled in poppies of aubergine new
golden sure
wild strawberry bright
origami sparrow flying white
oh .....
be careful and wise as wishes do come true :
folded
and
tucked 
along 
sorrows rue
kaleidoscope seasons 
turn and go ... turn and go
as the dreamscape of want simmers
then slows ..
invisible we become
beige'd to beige
wallflower silent / Einstein's sage
touch yourself
first there!  .... then
                open the vein
and
wake the lost!
ghosts of euphoria tinder the frost
cloaked and hidden .... I walk thru walls
sweeping up the storylines
our story .... my story .....
inked between nights
of
golden fields bloom against legends of light
the cut sharpest at the cold snap of morning bright
while bent
and
mending
the singed edges of
my
velvet weighted warming
intent thickens the bones
in the heart of the clear
forgiveness fills the corners
as
moon-shadows drip near
to waken ....
to walk ....
to be seen through the briar
to lie with the dragons of crystal blue fire