resilience
resilience is not always a stiff upper lip it is not always silence sometimes resilience is screaming the throat sore and bruising the...
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Five Love Poems
I. Every day she walks in the door a stranger. II. Even together we touch more air than skin. III. To love the distance is to love...
the moderns
when the moderns said each we are only ‘I’ and then we die — i wonder had they ever felt forgiveness? and then, a dear friend whom I love...
SILENCE
There was a chance, at that early point, that everything would work itself out, and in the order and manner that I anticipated....
A Mighty And Heavy Cross
To the darkness, I say, do not be otherwise. I will not blaspheme you. I will not sell your soul. Not to hope, or time. I will not behold...
trust
i will always trust someone who tells three stories to tell me one truth
Every Colour
What is space were blue instead of black? Would you still fear death? And if the rotted leaves were shown to breathe, The trees upon...
retirement
I think we ought to retire ‘god.’ The name decommissioned and made defunct. People mean so many true things and ‘god’ obscures them. They...
love beyond gods
one late afternoon through a window in a room i stand without a golden- willow wind within our garden swept up and through and whirled...
it shall not hold you down
hold to me to my own truth — love is long and round and raucous and shall not hold you down to a name but a way of being to a creed but...
i ask of the miraculous
i ask of the miraculous, be and if you cannot grow a garden and of the transcendent, descend and if you will not grieve with me i ask of...
Waffle House Meditation
Kindness darts like lightning. The man who owned the fourteen motels, before any other could (and others would), he bought a day of peace...
slowly something else
Often as I walk and think, I pull flowers from stems and stems from branches. Now they are here and there, in the air and in the story....
for my Grandfather
A single-page obituary told me more than you ever did. I never made the drive, which perhaps was selfish, perhaps was simply sensible....
those
In sun-morning-new-warmth those we call them ‘cats’, and ‘small’ and ‘with a silken grey coat and soft white chest’ but they are not—...
dust is glad
Do I wonder if one language undoes the poet? Do I fear that poetry slays my love? (Yes, yes.) To be unafraid of all words, at all times,...
all It does is rise
It does seem that something holds up the sun; some something in requiem and in renascence and in religion, too, i think. It doesn’t seem...
March
March, I’ve heard them say, is the last dead month and the least dead month. And it wasn’t even that it was March, but that we (You and...
hard eyes
The hard eyes of a woman whose hair was down, who held herself taller, whose legs were longer and forever outpacing us down rooted,...
Tupperware, like Love
Well, we must die— the reminder tacked on the fridge aired other grievances also —and we ought to ban Alcoholics Anonymous and the...
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