Category: Aging
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It is a mystery
It is a mystery, some prefer to say. But this loss holds me still, years of confusion, hunching towards this, that — perhaps spiritual decline, perhaps a more ordinary plight. Either way, the residue stains. It is that purple stubbornness I cannot separate from, prevents perspective, cannot see at all if not through it.
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To annotate time
How it is that time moves in pieces that each we must note or touch or somehow move to mind How it is that life is nothing but time that moves forward in pieces we dare not not hold, but rarely even recall or know or grasp How it is that forever is only time…
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I do not cry loud for battle
I do not cry loud for battle having given my hand already having held my dying kin having rested under this willow as the breeze swayed its lashes smooth across my breast having gazed into the open starlit sky with the wonder of many years yet to travel No, I do not cry loud but…
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How trees grow
Boy trails old man along stream bed cuts into damp soil slips sapling into crevice weighs heel to seal the earth trails further pausing when old man pauses cutting when old man cuts slipping when old man slips heeling when old man heels And so it goes all afternoon and into night how trees grow…
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Unborn child
My first lie was before you were conceived and I prayed that if you were a girl, you must have Jeff’s hair, because all my years as a little girl I had dreamt of having just that hair, waving soft back and forth, all the time knowing God does not take a grocery list he…
Poems from in between 