Monthly Archives: February 2017


  .. That sassy sun smiles again, and one stray vapor of pink -smoke hope curls around her heart.     .. prompted by twiglets.         

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sea glass

.. tumble me back to the places where water kisses land, where sand is fairy dust in hungry hands. salt-shine me to reflect this crazy sky, this wandered-by wisp of cloud, this out-loud sigh that says wish you were …………..(still) … Continue reading

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We Hold These Truths

.. Dawn’s a grinning ghost, a whispercurl scar of shadowdance moon and bubble-breath breeze. Open a giggle jar. Spill your stars. Rise, twist clouds to dance. Spark (one) chance. Green our skin with lull of leaves. Cue the journey. Melt. … Continue reading

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Addressing the Day

.. The world’s gone gray. We say more than we want; less than we mean. Asphalt slate, erased. Smoke sky. Even the breeze has teeth. Are we grieving something? Leaving something behind? Trying to bind ourselves a new center? Oh, … Continue reading

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Many stone steps, going somewhere soon.

  .. We crave the cobbling of days, the ways that things unthrown might add up to some pathway, some intricate up. Some cup more than half full. Runneth over. We live in glass houses, under glass ceilings, grass roofs … Continue reading

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Messy Rows

.. They waddle along, two by two as if they are headed for the ark (that of the Noah persuasion), and not just this arc of water, this fountain full of rusting pennies, drowning wishes. We watch them go, count … Continue reading

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… We shirr ourselves together from invisible strings, clustering in flocks and crowds like birds, mustering our faith. Colorful chairs unfolding, holding our memories. Our laughter, like bright awnings from the street. We swear by flowers, mosaics, the smell of … Continue reading

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The Nopebook

.. She writes the things she does not want to do. A “chuckit” list of sorts, a way of stretch-scribbling her soul, working out the nots. Her thoughts spill. Fill these pages in intricate stages of naw and never -lands. … Continue reading

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Ms. Moon Waning

.. She’s straining her golden eye to see the last good in this night, the last gold in this fight, the last gild for her flight. She’s danced all night across this star-stung scrim, whirled at her whim to ebony’s … Continue reading

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Because I could not stop

, ghost me a whisper-dawn, scar-curled meltmoon setting in her shimmercloud sway. shadow me a sonnet-grin, an open jar of sparks, spilling bubble-breeze. this rose has thorns. (cue tattered leaves, green, twisted in melted breath.) my friend, fool death. skip … Continue reading

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