4/30/16

this morning, reeling from
the scattershot sleep
of mothers, I let 
my feet guide, eat gravel
for lean miles like hungry dogs





4/29/16

the bald cut
through the mountain
has laced its fingers -

a mossy silk ceiling
to catch our prayers





4/28/16

my years crumpled
patchwork, mouse teeth

in the next room
the cat cracks
her greymoth bones





4/27/16

it had been a rabbit -
i saw its tail 
on the asphalt 
severed but complete 
as a little coin





4/26/16

my limbs
stripped
down to wire

copper sinew
tungsten halo





4/25/16

lay down your
teary hiccup
in the curve of my neck

this room is yours
as long as i live





4/24/16

I wrap
you in a blanket
        laughing


a cocoon
a shroud





4/23/16

spring comes
pulling open
the lofty afternoon;
houseplants tremble
blissful in an open window





4/22/16

he laughs 
and his little sharps
sew the room
tight
with his delight





4/21/16

i wipe his tears in 
the car, new routine;

all day the sky
wanted to rain
        but kept forgetting





4/20/16

little boy hanging
heavy in my arm's cradle

sleepy bones
ballast
my soaring love





4/19/16

the black face of
the orchard bee
blank
but somehow sweet

tending her well-loved children





4/18/6

pulling weeds,
the fat taproot 
snaps -

fingers scrape dirt for 
the unseen 
                   touch nothing





4/17/16

sunshine sifts through
a hillside of bald trees

above hawks talk about
circles
the only human word they know





4/16/16

the coal barge 
difts downsteam

motionless

as a butter dish
on tomorrow's table





4/15/16


let your star-wild spirit
cascade, burn spirals -

but learn too
the patience of seeds
the diligence of ants





4/14/16

hang dandelion roots, our
pantry bright with dirt-smell
and fat white carrots

oh welcome weeks of weeds,
spring tonics and birdsong





4/13/16

even in exhaustion
he sprawls with the grace
of a skin diver -
back flung in a nimble J,
jaw clasping an unseen knife





4/12/16

scrub the crystal
thrifted, dust-hungry
in a bowl of vinegar

the hands itch pink
the sun shines through





4/11/16

monday's wound -
this old
gray vacancy,
the seam in a mirror
that obscures





4/10/16

crouched on cement
agog, feet lost to fractured
fault line stop-clock 

                machines rend the sky
                with booming violence





4/9/16

nestled in the crags
             of sleep 
the baby shakes 
             his blind
             fists





4/8/16

we are grown women
wifed, arms round from
cradling children
but tonight we are lean-legged boys,
our hot hearts, our beery oaths





4/7/16

in an unlit room
surrounded by rain
i disassemble

                         my spread body,
                         stillness in silence





4/6/16

beyond my
nightdark yard
i hear two cats
fighting

or lovesick





4/5/16

from down the deeply
shadowed hall,
a small, lonely cough

like a drip of water
lost far within a cave





4/4/16

tiny socks. damply spread 
on the bureau to dry
cry mama, mama - 

like gnaw marks in the plaster, 
we can never fully forget





4/3/16

a cold snap
felled the river weeds -

wilted bodies
pierced
by the blades of tulips





4/2/16

it's night
and our bared
teeth
scissor tight
play nice





4/1/16

red-capped, my son
hops through
the church garden,

glad cardinal
amid his flowers