Church Plant
/My body
under saffron sun.
Not far from here
January's ceiling is a chapel
and its devotee
a daisy in the meadow
waving.
Lake Girl
/
as a girl
I set a hill on fire
accidentally
in late July
I stood
in the calamity
before giving way
to a rolling graveyard of ash
and shame
that day
I became a ghost
moved in every direction
by the hint of breezes
off the lake
Maps
/no silence slips in
to roost
wind chimes – sprinklers – chickadees
nights are restless
as earthworms pop and lost souls
stumble down dirt roads
our maps
lead to lakes and painted canoes and bass
glinting of daybreak
my room peaks
with warmed sun
and sweat-soaked clothes
fall to the floor
what bears me up
prepares to gather
empty hands
August flies south
and with it
summer
Postcard
/sundown lifts
the day's crown
into distant storms
while moonflowers give
way to collect July
rains
I am gathered too;
are you?
Night Light
/early evening offering
golden light on the run
she gathers fragrance
beyond voices and shadows
of you there imploring one note
answered with her there trembling
one fern frond
after another
bidding the rest
good night
Daybreak speckles a squatty pine –
along with tiny winged dancers
you only stir a bit
to stare and sip
as a black cat threads its way
through morning
shadows;
a train moans westbound
but you are silent.
Spring is spring yet never the same –
when light crackles
a hardened path
you are an infinite disappearing
above ragged rafters
and slanted beams
and granite clouds
and blue reaching into white into black
into everything.
Then, chipmunk chirps pierce the untethering
dripping like a high-pitched faucet:
Start.
Your.
Work.
Stop.
Staring.
Aquarius
/creek water blurbs
beneath ice –
Aquarius
whispering
secrets
there is no difference
between God
and gin
Penance
/fog
over lessened
snow
pines
peeking
the red flash
of a cardinal's
tail –
penance
delayed