The sea itself
twisted in a curtain,
waiting
Tag Archives: poetry
Tidepool
Well I’ll be damned
if I’m not now lodged
in the flattest of all waters
to await the gull
who’ll dash my shell:
I’m the least of nature’s daughters!
Dinghy at the bar
O ye gods,
that my rain-tossed pride
should give flataway
and leave me plank-scattered
and scared at this,
the bar
Why go to a future
You know is not there?
Yank that vine
and get at the root.
And when you’re done,
dig deeper still.
For roots have their own
invisible roots.
Strainer
You don’t want to hit a tree,
he said
(and I agreed).
And when you go over the falls,
don’t do it the usual way:
get down and hang on,
and if you go under,
make like a ball,
and please,
if you pop up,
don’t float all the way to the Columbia.
Swim to shore and we’ll all have
a better day.
Lovely lost tomorrow
The first new leaf I turned
I pressed in a tablet of clay.
It worries me now
in its box in the drawer.
I never feel its pressure today.
Soaring ribbons of light
Circle and twine –
see our voices
joined in song
Gap between two blips
When the ball disappears
between the mound and the glove –
we’re talking missile now,
the true white heat –
where does it go?
Does it stick to the line
or stray to the stars?
Does it do what it should
or hang out in bars?
That I might brim over
On such a morning.
The sun makes gold
of this lake of tears.
Hearts tricked apart
Verily
and – for shame!
unnecessarily
Utrecht Journal 