Saturday, May 22, 2010


Dad thanks me for the
light bulb. Apricots, I give
him next. "Aaah!" he says,
a softness to his voice now
as the golden balls roll out.

He asks for green grapes
next time, seedless, though I've asked,
"Pears?" The grapes will sit
and some will rot, growing white
caps, like elders sitting quietly.

Other juicy ones
will leap into the velvet
red cavern of this mouth
singing as they slide down to
the lake. "Aaah!" he will murmur.

Apples wait for days
too big to be eaten, but
saved anyway. Milk
and juice sit out covered like
treasures hoarded, liquid jewels.

MAY 22, 2010

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Life in Slow Motion: Look, See, Sleep

Into a still pond
I float, grateful for thin air.
Leaves eddy by me.

It wasn't the flu.
Who knew? But Lord Pneumonia
Gracing me with pause.

Dream cough syrup
Dreams, wild visions that meander
Like river currents.

Waking, I gather
Memory, like twigs and moss
From the water's edge.

Fashion a land quilt
To remember my dreams by,
Pull it close for warmth.

Step out into Sun,
Taking out the garbage now;
Water the wilted kale.

May 6, 2010

Sunday, May 2, 2010


On thermals, vultures
soar, wide winged, elegant
as eagles. Behold!

My friends, the three palms
wave brown fronds this spring. I stare
Til green shoots appear

Gold. I catch the light.
Dark branches silhouette the fire.
Everything glows! Ah! Sun!

Influenza Dream

Flu like a phantom
crept in with a silent sneer
setting up camp here.

All hail the warriors,
Golden Seal, Echinacea,
Etheric Healers.

I sleep for three days.
On the third day, I learn
flu causes sleep, not colds.

I rise from a dream
of white kites over a lake,
a cat curling by me.

White face like a mime's
mask, she gestures, black eyes blink.
I reach for her name.