Category Archives: November Chapbook 2022

and the sky played on 

she never knew the moon was made of music, orion belting out the blues.  and then she flew, mad as midnight, wild as stars. ::In November, we poem.

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Sun’s Up Again  And the world keeps turning and the sky keeps squawking and I swear you  just keep talking, while the geese fly by like little white lies.  Catch one for me, and wring its neck.  I dare you.  ::In November, we poem.

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

True North and Other Quiet Lies 

The compass says we’re therebut I still feel the pull of something greater, some crater in my soul that says we’ve got a ways to go.  We wake. We give. We grieve. We take. We’re born. We mourn all those livesthat could be ours.  And we … Continue reading

Advertisement

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Re:Mused (the one with all the titles)  for want of wings, here in the resolve of remaining, (with Poe, of trees),we are shaking out the down placing deliberate storms in bold pockets, found poems of Icarus waning,  moonsquabble myths of moon.   (come, o better fates) assessment: after all … Continue reading

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Shaking out the Down 

“I am a feather for each wind that blows.” William Shakespeare :: Look up, the sky’s a fluffered songof promise. A float of hope.  Let’s make ourselves a small and quiet place to gather these loose quills caught.  **Cue the lightning.** On second thought, let’s not. … Continue reading

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Deliberate Storms 

A maelstrom stirs in her chest,poorly born concave shell.  Damn, but this land’s a swung          (sprung) place to watch lightning fingers jigsaw the sky.  ::Quickly, day 25.

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , | 3 Comments

Pockets

My daughter (grown, not yet flown) asks me why I need so many and I try to explain that I am still carrying my childhood phone number, six jingles from the 80s, a tiny sprinkle of Tahoe sand,and a look she gave mewhen she was 15. And … Continue reading

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Icarus Waning 

I know the feeling, Sir.  Of chutzpah,hubris, and unheeded warnings.  Of flapping full tilt into a too-bright sun.  .  Of falling  in love with this broken (open) sky.  ::In November, we poem.

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Origami Paper Passed in Bio 101 

This is not a love poem.  I don’t care how many          (red, red) roses you send or ways you countor   (loves me, loves me) knots you tie or body electrics you sing.  See, here’s the thing: (the root of root andbud of bud and what -not)  (what passions, … Continue reading

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Found Poem 

We gather things: tender buttons, bits of string, sea glass, chimneysweep soot.  It’s not the stuff of dreams, but it holds us. The murmur of morning, the tick-toxic cluck of clock.  A wayward word. Some lint left overfrom yesterday’s storm.  ::In November, we poem.

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments