meeting
to make a melody: my only task.
i ponder when i should decide.
prince and callas mingle with the freeway.
singing in the shower.
to make a melody: my only task.
i ponder when i should decide.
prince and callas mingle with the freeway.
singing in the shower.
the sound of rain—a dampness in the skin.
one knows, but doesn’t quite believe,
that winter nourishes just as much as spring—
within cold bones: hurray!
with clouds careening by, the moon is nearly
full. the body aches to sing
we wonder if it’s winter, as it rains:
this ground, so lush with weeds.
relax. you’ll find an island: hollow, melting
into waves and blown around
by wind. relax. you’ll be right here until
there’s no place left to stand.
no tree enjoys its root-crown being buried
and i am no exception. roots
grow out, the trunk grows up. big rocks, hard soil
create such graceful limbs.