Category: Mother
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Visitation
Even the spires of milkweed bend over in the low tumble of wind through the prairie, dry reeds tapping hollow on ancient gravestones. When I left you here, the ground was frozen and wet, with pelting sleet leaving a pebbled sheet on the grass, the canopy, the cars. How different it feels in August now,…
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Effigy Mound
In my belly, now flat, curled a spine with indistinct tissue wrapped around its tiny bones like those of a bird. I imagine them now bleached by the sun and gathered by the wind into some sheltered corner like pickup stix. In that corner, sand, brittle leaves, acorns layer alongside, under, above and make another…
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An Easter thought
It does not seem fair in all the measures of life that our heavy ways hang in expectance on these tiny buds just now swelling as if even trifle error could be swept long past by the miracle wrought when young leaves break their cocoons. We are at the gallows, bewildered, then resurrected, by the…
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Even so
Even as you sit smoking weed in the room I just cleaned and leave your papers and dirty dishes on the desk, not making the bed I just resheeted, there is no amount of missing you that is enough. It goes on and on like the Mississippi flows in constant cycles from mountain top through…
Poems from in between 