Tag: poetry
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Buddhista 2
You sit on the stump of the old willow where last stood a luxurious swaying, deep shade for hot summer days. Sun falls bright upon your head, your joints ache from prayer or thought or long years of passive watch over this small yard, the squirrels that make their home in the stretches of the…
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Buddhista 1
I will buy for you a cedar box, red, fragrant when rain falls, broad and steady, and plant it near the crocuses and the daffodils that were tossed among fresh sprouts of day lilies, and in time, that will sleep under the vigils of June’s deep clematis and our red-then-green- then-red-again maple. And upon it…
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What love could learn from fungus if it would only listen
I wish you could spread in that restless, vindictive, ambling way — to not be held back, to spew spores whenever someone tries to uproot you, sloppy, lazy enough to reproduce anywhere. How I wish you did. It would all be so much easier if you did. ——— Something along the lines of Hafiz.
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In the middle of the night
How you pull me down and up at once. In you I see ancient, raw days when I brought something polished and fine and you, face down, eyes darting, question my sincerity which I prove again and again, for now.
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An exercise
Stones are easy to stack when they have been split and sanded. The challenge is to balance uneven ones, those shaped by nature’s peculiar whims, or those left to their own devices — like feral children bent on revolt, intent on upsetting our day’s order. They insist that the stacker sit down to watch how…
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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…
