I bring her a strand of my auburn hair and tuck it in a seam of wintery shore. The Lake swallows adjusting her grand sleeping body.   Her violet breath flows beneath bergs of crystalline clouds whose icy edges rub trickling water and chime...
February 12, 2021
When morning slips into my room, she offers me a state of grace. And I see with my closed eyes the descendants of cantors dressed in many shades of violet. This choir, who have my father’s smile, chants only to keep the frost from silence...
December 21, 2020
                                For I am sorry to have washed you away from your home, under-and-inside the primitive clay statue of Gaia who watched...
October 20, 2020
All summer they rise. Faces follow the light. And when August turns to autumn, every sunflower bows.
August 31, 2020
Lupin dreams on the bed. She is swimming beyond misty veils, finding her way back to my ancestors.   I haven’t started laundry or dusted. Instead, I’ve read awful news and visited the Lake on YouTube; thankfully she is swaying,...
June 17, 2020
Wind-tossed under the maple on our weed lawn, lies a nest that’s three-quarters woven together— dried grasses, seed fluff and strands of auburn hair. I scoop it up and bring it inside to our bookshelf where we intimately admire the...
April 22, 2020
  Three withered rose hips bathe in silver light between the stiff bristles of her sleeping branches.
February 25, 2020
        From deep solstice woods the copper moon is rising, expectant with hope.
December 21, 2019
Curling through mauve skies, waking dreams rise one by one from the breath of stones.
October 31, 2019
A bear cub emerges from one hundred sunflowers. He gambols toward me across blooming grasses, the expectation of play flaming in his eyes.  To my laughter’s cadence, he scoots circles around my dancing feet.  
August 18, 2019