Roar amidst the clatter
of beaded manes.
Claw the bark and tatter
long words, writ upon
these vellum pages
and add a name.
Anastasia
Anastasia, at rest,
the dancelight is blue,
closed fist, she raises it,
thumbing her nose
The Cutting Box
One thousand cuts,
drip-dry, spot-by-spot…
I haven’t bled to death,
but I am so, so tired
of hearing the thunder
from those anguished drops.
Hopeless Seas
Carried away by hopeless seas,
uncharted depths of the deep,
crisp and blue, surface sweeps,
she, the wind whips the mist free. Continue reading “Hopeless Seas”
The Wake at Unicoi
At the wake on Unicoi,
out poured our worth,
once there,
we pushed and pulled,
and tore out holes,
by the fistful,
in that rocky
Appalachian
earth. Continue reading “The Wake at Unicoi”
Mother Mary
It was 1943…
a baby girl was in need
of daddy’s first kiss,
though he was not home. Continue reading “Mother Mary”
The Kings of Atlanta
Say goodbye
to the Kings
of Atlanta.
Weave their story
into the tapestry
of your life. Continue reading “The Kings of Atlanta”
Flower Stems Fall
How could a man
look more defeated?
Drenched, sorrowful,
drained, and depleted
of the vital things
that helped him be. Continue reading “Flower Stems Fall”
Dripping
I’ve been holding
you for so long. Continue reading “Dripping”
You are Golden
As my beard
grows grey,
the memory
of your face,
though out of focus,
has taken on
the most lovely glow. Continue reading “You are Golden”
Veil of Ashes
A veil of ashes
obstructed my view,
yet I could hear
the tide’s swell crashing,
mixing what was left
of me into you.