Walking in Snow
The snow teaches me separateness, the ice to be hard. Though I was born in the desert, where the teachers …
The snow teaches me separateness, the ice to be hard. Though I was born in the desert, where the teachers …
Today is a wish, or a halfhearted promise of escape from the contrived hopes that scaffold my vision. In the …
Originally posted on Poetry on the run:
We begin saying goodbye, become distracted by the search through time – attic, relics, the…
The Age of Water Primordial Water Virgin Birth “Salt” The first word in the place where it all begins. “Fire” …
Shadows of mountains guard the thin ground of this life. The high dry canyons stretch out around seamless dunes …
Combed through trees the wind brings secret motion. The sun rising in the eye of a silver needle brings …
We begin saying goodbye, become distracted by the search through time – attic, relics, the old street, a man …
Veracity, the rare poetic kind, is the light of a million diamonds, distant, cold, hard, brilliant. This initial light shining …
This small place with its invisible wall and nowhere to stumble on the smooth black streets. How do I …
Originally posted on Poetry on the run:
I remember tinted images yellow and stained in old wooden frames. The glass was scratched and…