For her want of tears, the woman runs across the courtyard and into the arms of the botanist Tzu. The songs in her head are not unlike the songs in her heart. Maybe they come from a deep seed planted in soil far more fecund than rain can bear. Maybe the spring monsters will surroundContinue reading “The Botanist Tzu”
It could just be a tree stump or a rock pile, or a goat that was poised to amble down the cliff face, not a man at all. Until his face flashes in your face, becomes your face, and fades into the sea. There is no sound, no Icarus-like cry— nothing… until the cat calls,Continue reading “The Sandman”
It’s nighttime on the farm. What has this to do with bees buzzing? With meadows moaning? With truth bubbling up in sentences from ponds delighted to be here at all? Even the silence grows dense. The cows nod sagely as they dream. All this will be milk by morning.
I reckon – when I count at all – First – Poets – Then the Sun – Then Summer – Then the Heaven of God – And then – the List is done – —Emily Dickinson The casket that carried him away should have been made with gold inlay. He was that grand a man,Continue reading “His Apotheosis”
The wind’s sole source must be the mountains; it’s motion, inconsolable. The sculptor of the world is blown sand blown around by idolatries, by sequenced sand dunes, not the winds per se, and they are not the terror he’d thought them to be. The winds would bring him peace—not so, the wings. They were God’sContinue reading “A Clown’s Wings”
I have begun with thyme again. I did not start it from seed this time; it seemed unpropitious. I got some cuttings from my greengrocer and started them in some sort of growing medium, I’m not sure what, mica chips or something. Anyway, here they are. Come spring I shall plant them in the oldContinue reading “Repetition”
The sun’s great burst has kept your room in shade. The fog forming on the cliffs could supplant any old beauty below with either daffodils or poison ivy. So you must close your eyes now and listen for the heart-pounding sound of the woman who lives in you. We are not all actors turnedContinue reading “The Fog Forms”