Tag Archives: poem
We are not here to tiptoe through the garden at night. We balance on the edge of a slow-whirling blade, a smooth silver plane with teeth, belonging to a star, unnamed, its heart a fiery proof and fade of joy … Continue reading
If you are wondering what is happening to the earth, or what that sound is you hear at night, halfway between dream and mortar, rest easy, it is simply women waking up to move mountains, by order of the Moon’s … Continue reading
There are stories, chanced to be heard in silent scars– listen with your eyes.
Where she fell in love, a red-lettered memory of palms holding sun.
A spectral, widespreading cape of lavender misting the seascape, and in the distance, a house, fronted by palms looking like shadowy pom-poms, its windows lighted eyes blazing swaths of yellow to imbibe the encroaching nocturne.
The sky, a photographic illusion, a veiled overlay, which the sun, in this starring instance, burns through from behind, creating a pinhole aperture through which one can vision proof of eternity, and its unending volumes of light.
At the risk of harbor, emptiness pools where hearts marvel in sync with grief’s ruins.
Unscripted, unbound, wind’s summer fling with towel– Love, gently aired, seeks.
When the trap door fell, he remembered who he was– Peter Pan leapt, soared.
There is a legend of a door hidden from hearts– How stones, unturned, scar.