Published in An Anthology of Pandemic Poems, Oregon Poetry Association 2021
Book available on Amazon.
Blind
It’s a silent
deep wave running
along the wires
hidden in the white noise
disguised as
information
a swarm of locusts
we hear but don’t see
the gathering of all that dust
all that darkness
all those moments
when we turned our heads
distracted our minds
refused to listen
and now we are here.
We look at each other
through windows
and nod as though
we know what’s going on
How are you?
Did you find the cause?
Lose the plug?
Can’t find the outlet?
The doctor can’t see me
and the path has
just turned.
I am sitting on a cold
hard bench
one step further away
from you
behind that mask
not trusting
just your eyes
lost in the division
between a mother
and her child
the proud boys are
in our park
and the piercing light
from their semi-automatics
blinds me to
what I knew
between me
and you.
Published in SMALL FEATHER, 2020.
Available form Finishing Line Press.
Holding Your Cloud
There was a program
about memory
on the radio
something about it
took me away
into clouds
white puffy spaces
always about to become
moments
always interrupted
by the breeze.
I found a seat
overlooking
the view
from the vineyards
watching a memory
settle into the landscape
shuffling its feet
and laughing
like an elusive rope hanging
down the wall of a well
to the moment
of my grief
over you.
Turquoise, in SAMLL FEATHER
Deep, rich
turquoise blue
perches defiantly
on claret-red
impossible cliffs
vermillion flycatchers
sigh and preen
on either side
while the idiotic sound of
a musty ticking clock
creeps through the
old woman’s home.
Carol King’s Tapestry
sultry smoke
snaking heaven
emerald deep green
as old barnacled hands
reach once more
for the squid ink inkwell
and with an owl-like stare
at the delirious sky
she writes the
new moon
into her lonely
anemone-filled heart.
As she writes
a beetle nearby clicks
Rachmaninov
a narcissistic frog
chants a cosmic refrain
it learnt as a gypsy
in Madrid
her hands dance
past and beyond
the words
weaving
a madrigal circus of apricots
dressed as sirens
in the distance
and her mind dances
away on a typhoon.
Sun deep carmine
falls into dusty
orange light
sweet cumin
smells dance
spilling upon
all the life
in that house
coming together
deep inside
the violet scented
turquoise
heart.