Sundays I move quiet
through house street wood
listening for birdsong
wave off voices of what should
Sundays I step slow
close observe neighbourhood
Sunday time
sunrise to dreamline—
all mine.
Monthly Archives: May 2016
Endings
Maybe a thousand years from now
when no one knows my name
the one who finds the note I write
slipped between these silent walls tonight
will know this was once my house
surrounded by these tall pine woods
where I wandered with wild lilies, spring roses, and butterflies
where I stood looking up to wide open starry skies
talking with the moon
where I lit candles in empty rooms
And I photographed my cat
who sat waiting patiently near the door
so she wouldn’t be left behind.
Mirror
One eyelid seems to droop lower than the other
think I’m slowly starting to look like my mother
and yeah that scares me a little
What’s happening to my skin
is there hair growing on my chin
maybe my eyes deceive me again
And who knows where this train’s going
there’s some fool’s grace in hardly knowing
I got a ticket is all that ought concern me
There are still teeth behind these lips
still plenty rhythm dancing in these hips
Gratitude is the jewel I’ll hold onto.
Clarity
On awakening
all answers
clarify
loose grip
those things you hold so fast
for they are things
just like you
wanting to
be
dizzy free.
Pencil Notes 