Every year the spring came alive in their mouths, like a cactus skin had been peeled away, leaving tongues of sweet and smooth vapors for them to breath and exhale, each separately, sure, but so like a man and woman making love before the kids got home from school, that Easter came and went, condensed.Continue reading “Easter Condensed”
Imagine the eggshell ghosts among the narrow statues in a line taut as a sacristy cat— all the unknowns. All watch as a saint in a stained glass window caught in the nameless sunrise is illuminated there. Strange, isn’t it? How feline his features! He looks to be tormenting rats he has trapped in aContinue reading “The Unknowns”
They say, fire is the inspired hour; ice the minute left behind; water the years—all the years; and air… air explains how time can stand so still, while the breeze brings the scent of apple pie through the open window and the open window… the open window smiles and counts the days until the spring– like theyContinue reading “What They Say”
…An old man’s eagle mind. —Yeats It seems all that was needed to illuminate the eagle’s dreams could be found in his illusions. Other birds will live on in a representation of his flight. His sentences will lighten the sky as though they had always been there, a presence so real the air flared inContinue reading “Brother Sun”
Sure, it could be snow that covers his stick-like torso; ice has already hollowed out his head. Yet he sits and sings under the shadows left to the evening by the lonely winter’s day. He sings. And while he sings the sun appears to rest… So still, it must perpetually crest the perpetual ice; soContinue reading “Ice Chronicles”
A short field, a slippery hill, A sylvan glen gone suburban, A whiskey trail… Why not? It’s a snow day. Or let’s stay by the fire And rename each snow flake As it lands and dies. Buckbean, walrus, crocus, skin— Insect, badger, windflower, pin— A honeymoon of sleighs, A marriage of sleds.