Tag Archives: sunrise

{and other theories of the dawn} 

(an aubade)  :: we oh-bayed the sun, rose to his thorny shine.  even though this day’s got teeth. even though the moon had pull. even though all things flew south.  we looked him straight in his pretty, blingy mouth and tried to make sense of all this bright … Continue reading

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sunrise surprise 

funny how we know it’s coming (happensevery day),  the way we can go to bed collided decided d i v i d e d and still wake up united in our awe, delighted by  that marmalade-slathered horizonthe wonder of glow the waking of sun.  we know it’s coming but sit here, still … Continue reading

Posted in April PAD 2023 | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

in the in between 

when both the sun and moon grace the same gold sky,i too am both erased and a bold new light rising.  :: In November, we poem. Today is day 4.

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

humming schwä

we uh at that saffron balloon sunrise  seizing the skyand we’re listening for the bumble-buzz of beeand be.  the world is all squawk squawk squawk and talk of war-nings and fire and we have to warble loud to stay un-stressed.  it’s best to pencil in the rest, slow slur -blur shades of … Continue reading

Posted in April PAD 2022 | Tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Divine Directives 

Hush.  See? Earth’s not in a rush and we should not be either. She’s quiet -ly turning, not yearning for speed. She’s all tiny flit and flutter, tide  and teaspooned time. Take a breathand hold it like a swallowed moon.  Swoon for … Continue reading

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making sense of sunrise

  we watch it plop up again and again all saffron spinall lozenged hope all miracle-raised invisible string prop.  it slow simmer singes a waking sky while you and i try to make something of its hazy smoke.  is it the dot on a question mark caught by curious sky?  … Continue reading

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mercies new

we can rue this day all we want, rant its shortcomings and moan its faults,  but there’s always another one another run another sun  waiting in the wings.  :: In April, we poem.

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Aubade with Yolk on Its Face 

:: And suddenly the day’s cracked open like a broken storm,with me alone at center.  :: In November, we poem. This one’s an aubade.

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searching for color in a desert world

this is no garden place, these terra cotta hills and mountain face. she aches for blue beyond this sky, some rainbow’d why. but still she finds a slip of pink to fuel her ink; a bramble of crimson, that golden … Continue reading

Posted in dVerse poems, Quadrille, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

{In which she writes after not writing for days and days and days}

  She runs to breathe, and be -lieves that things will get better with the dawn. She holds that fire in her heart and wishes upon it, knows these days are numbers, fleeting. She is equal parts lake ache and … Continue reading

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