Tag Archives: poem

Poem | ‘The remains’

Posted on November 11, 2018 by

How dim the light in the morning through the last brown leaves And the look of the limbs curled inwards, slumped low How soft the heater blows those long, solemn notes Like the sound of a car scraping down an … Continue reading →

Posted in poetry, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Song for late summer’s sorrow

Posted on August 25, 2018 by

When the sun came out it hardly mattered with the wildfire smoke and clouds and cloying mood that comes from late summer days you’ve seen enough of: No, the sun was going under, swallowed and swollen, buried by messy, careless … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, poetry | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments

Dream of forgetfulness in the wake of night

Posted on August 11, 2018 by

In the papery pre-light of dawn my wings like a honey bee’s begin to break down my body a weight I can’t let go, these words are the weights when they hang here, unsaid.

Posted in identity, poetry, writing | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

One commitment (for August)

Posted on August 1, 2018 by

In the morning before the sun is up, when the cloud deck makes the light go soft and pale, the grass is the color of straw dried-out and sharp, golden red. The lawn sprinklers wake spitting and cussing, and the … Continue reading →

Posted in poetry, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 14 Comments

A jarful of days

Posted on July 30, 2018 by

In the corner of my yard in the mid-afternoon heat in my hammock with Pablo Neruda between my legs, my glasses off, bare-chested and unbathed, I think about death: my body a lump in a sack swinging here: all this, … Continue reading →

Posted in death, poetry, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 9 Comments

The crow can’t sing, it clicks

Posted on May 3, 2018 by

Down the blooms fell, a different kind of fall. We did the spatchcock chicken again with the New Orleans rub and the leftover corn and asparagus. It was one of the best days I had at my new job, and … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, musings, poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Blurred passage to poem

Posted on March 29, 2018 by

How the poem appeared an object in the mist I paddled toward and circled round And though it was odd and lustrous, with living things nesting and squirming inside, it was too tall and slick for me to climb. Better … Continue reading →

Posted in poetry, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments