Category: Muse
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The city breathes
We walk in a world muffled with blue-white snow piled high. A single shadowy path guides us. Our boots crunch, blunted echoes in the distance — a car horn, shovel, train crossing, dog bark — the light of smudged stars tap through a black, hazy sky, asking permission to appear and speak. The city takes…
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City river
How its surface hides the undulation on its bottom; how its edges spill over and are spilled over into. How as it is fed by another, the water tumbles, turns over broken concrete slabs; how herons perch there, oblivious. How when the tunnel overflows with rain, it releases a stench into the summer breeze that…
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Bunkhouse mornings
The forest floor crackles, catching dribbles from above. A breeze shifts, fresh spray showers the twigs and dried leaves. I can smell that rain and those damp, quieting mornings, cool moss under my feet. The blue jay’s harsh, long cawk, intrusive. Why did they not swoop down on us? The breeze builds through high branches,…
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Jeanie
Skies hang today like my gray-brown bed sheet from when I knew you, discolored by countless nights of filthy feet and scraped knees from spud and ding dong ditch and ghosts in the graveyard, never washing white. How long it takes to see the nonwhite on the sheet and then longer still to decide whether…
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Daily practice
My muscles tear for you, infinitely small and subtle, healing and tearing again. In time, I am bent to fit you, my edges sanding down, curves softening, wrapping through yours, less opposite, more flexible, able to twist with your twistings, sigh with your sighs, wonder with your wonderings — a multitudinous one. I dissolve, I…
Poems from in between 