WELCOME TO OUR GRAND ORCHARD OF POEMS
NESTLED ALONG THE STREAMS OF SHORT STORIES.
STANDING IN THE BRANCHES,
PLUCK THESE FRUITS
FROM THE FLOWERS OF OUR MIND.
ENJOY THIS SWEET TREAT,
THE NECTAR OF LETTERS.
WELCOME TO OUR GRAND ORCHARD OF POEMS
NESTLED ALONG THE STREAMS OF SHORT STORIES.
STANDING IN THE BRANCHES,
PLUCK THESE FRUITS
FROM THE FLOWERS OF OUR MIND.
ENJOY THIS SWEET TREAT,
THE NECTAR OF LETTERS.
All my life / I have been throwing my voice / Into the void
We are getting quieter with each other
I want to wake up on someone else's couch
With creases on my cheek
No one taught you how to love
but you can fix an outboard motor.
The star magnolia is blooming,
And the daffodils, and the forsythia and
Amaryllis as big as my face
Lazlo is so proud to have had a hand in the blossoming
That he is blooming too, aglow with life
I wish you sorrow the way
I wish rain onto farmlands and callouses into fingers,
Or wildfire rushed through a forest to start anew
The sounds of the bats in the ceiling came back months later, maybe the baby's family, in the walls, in the crawl spaces, ones we couldn't save but still heard the knocking and the crying.
I am not always awake to the world, not always thinking about the big things. Today it is just the spoon of sugar in my coffee, the one leaf unfurled, first of the green on the tree outside my bedroom window, a sock without a mate stuck under the covers at the foot of the bed.
I wish you sorrow the way
I wish rain onto farmlands and callouses into fingers,
Or wildfire rushed through a forest to start anew