i wonder at the
absence of flames
my world has been
on fire almost
every day and now…
…now?
there is a long,
cool rain falling
quenching the heat
and i cannot
identify the cause,
nor why of it all
ever so slight of nervous
seeking a torch
to now light my way
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These birch at the riverbank, boulder-fractured of growth resting bottom of the mountain scree — they are me. Standing defiant, I insist on being though stone pushes and gravities are drawn, I drink strength of river.
Granite sings, should you open your eyes to listen. I can tune my growth to their song. I am woman, that pale goddess. And I insist you try.
Gathering of breath from wind, from rain, my arms have set to wave. For I bend, not break under the song of the heart. You would too, if only you could see.
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wearing other’s faces
i saw you stealing kisses
the consummate thief
you are
but i can see through
your disguise and lies
i can see a million miles
away
you know? it made me laugh
left laughing ‘til morning came
i tip my hat at your
audacity
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oh, this confusion of me
balls into singularity and
i can't understand at all
what anyone might mean
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chasing wisps
i lost the path
here, in
my peat bog
pussywillow
lean-to home
pressing grey
and velvet to
face crag me
dragging deadfall
to blacksmoke
open air screens
muscle spasm
twitch tones
darkwater brown
given over to
chasing wisps
down ol' peat bog
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while everyone is singing
their empire songs, we
slip away to the night
there is no trust for
the watchmen watching
with halberd's shining
white in the spotlights,
their axes at our necks
we could be heroes, too
a bulwark against
the storm, but first...
a kiss before dying
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The title sounds like a communicable disease, doesn’t it? Anyhoo…
Contacting me is changing around here.
Just an FYI in case you have thought about talking to me about, well… anything really… one-on-one.
I’ve decided against continuing to make the contact form available on my “about” page. For every single legit attempt to communicate with me, I get about fifty to a hundred spam contacts. Over the years, I’ve also had some very odd communications from folks as well.
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the ley lie
betwixt
you and i
no matter
the where
we stand in
ever-the-night
i close my
coin eyes
to run to you
my essence
my ley
my night
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love is rainfall
autumn & leaf
flint striking
steel skies grey
that is what love is
love is loam in
perfume & moss
drinking in the
shadowplayed sunlight
that is what love is
love is graveled
voice & black feathers
granting passage high
in the cedar trees
that is what love is
a name like winter
on a moonless night
a kiss of frost in passing
that is what love is
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