Monday, December 24, 2012


sunset (letter to the sun)

you were treacherous, bright one

when you went down

letting the earth,
that cold black ball
of rock
slide over your face

leaving me here
to milk heat
from the stars

in shadow, not yet a creature
of the dark

huddled down with the damp grass
holding the dew hostage
until dawn

I tell you, I will not embrace the night
while something inside me
still burns

a spark from your body of fire
that whispers
“not yet, not yet”

and a flame
that murmurs
“I have not forgotten”

Tuesday, December 11, 2012


Chord Change

something must break, and soon
I sense it in your hands

I feel you, as if I were
your last guitar

and you have one instant only
to stretch your fingers, crazily
for a new chord
throwing the old aside

it is this
moment of destruction
that I live for

the mad thin scream of the strings
as your fingertips slide
holding on, cracking the whip
to shatter their world

as always, the sound
of something thrown down, with all your soul
and something found

atop the waterfall, the wild new flow
no-one could have predicted
and yet we reached for it

Monday, December 03, 2012

orange coals

to the garden

way back when I was
only your child

weary of oranges
and love

someone spoke of
a secret space inside me

and showed me how to step
out of your arms

my love, I traded you
for this soft pull on my entrails
day and night, this longing

and all that came with it
the majesty of memory,
the will to build

and the power to grow
tall enough
to be your mirror

I, your child

the one you reach to now
with your shimmering
snake-like hands

tempting me
back to the garden