New poem. With thanks to Kim Vollmer-Lawson.
We want the sunset back
Its crimson belly
Finds it hiding place
Children dirty kneed in dungarees. Painters. Poets.
We want another story to sleep by
As we rub burning eyes
Stretch. Sink toward dream.
We want heavy, elephant skies
Spirits with long memories. Early snows.
We wish. Will. Wonder.
Whisper. Into ears that hear.
We beg. Bless. Blunder.
We draw portraits as you draw breath
Unconscious of the beauty within them both.
Poem co-written with Kim Vollmer-Lawson.
Trapped rapt adrift in what if
What will what won’t like a song
Locked inside my mind twisting its
Meaning with each new listen
Keeping time, biding, tying
Between loss and luck there is us
Mom said a tincture would heal
Between waiting and getting there
The interlude has its own life, the knife
Blades know their job. Know what will
Cut and what is better left to tear
Its way open.
Blades can’t do this.
Glass is loveliest in shards, in slivers of itself
It wants for sunlight, we hold in esteem the
Glass gone to pieces. We wonder at the
Parts gone missing.
Turning it over in our hands wondering how
Grains of sand became bottle, window pane
Turning it back to the ground so it will
Grow into itself again.
A found poem. Co-written with one of my favorite writers, Kim Vollmer-Lawson.
Love is either wood or fire
Banister or banishment
Would you still if I changed into
Stump, a table made
Would you stand firm then fall
Hold tight to my arm as you
Descend. Bring in the kindling
The kind that crackles in the fire’s lick
That lights up only
What you are allowed to see.
Would you run your hand against
My grain? Feel your own heat
Softening, bending what was into
Would you forget my name if
I wrote it in flame, branded
The sky. Would you forgive me
For turning to ash?