First Born, a glosa

poetry
  now you are darker than I can believe it is not wisdom that I have come to with its denials and pure promises but the absences I cannot set…

Owl

poetry
  The ear is the last face. —Emily Dickinson   Now the owl comes to my sleep, unbidden. I take its call, sculpted and clear, in to the immensity inside…

Saturday Morning, Low Tide

poetry
  Let’s say Heraclitus is right, we can’t swim the same surf twice— the way waves soak into the sand, the patterns left as darker stains that fade when the…

Wild Life

poetry
  The city warns that coyote have been sighted broaching a few neighbors’ yards. Scat & paw prints found come morning. They must be hungry & desperate,   trembling in…

Dew Claws

poetry
  My brand new polydactyl cat uses two extra dewclaws to chase the crumpled pages of mistakes I’ve thrown at the floor. Then he sprays them.   Bored by pleasure,…

after names

poetry
  Mera nam kya hai. Mein kidhar se aayee hoon. The wanderers wander in Urdu and the kings die in English. Everyone has lost the first song. The Portuguese came…

Seven Years After

poetry
  I know, you believe in nothing, so, when you   step off the fire escape, fall into nothing, never   bloody the courtyard’s snowdrifts. Nobody   screams, rushes down…

Selfie

poetry
    Rabbits are made of watching, stillness, pulse-pound & leap. String a parade of heartbeats in the air & a rabbit will form around them. Teeth exist that can…

Epithalamion at Magnolia Plantation

poetry
  Charleston, SC   The marsh flickers in the beading of bridal lace, a train that swallows the dock as she promises tidal fidelity in the shadow of pruned oak.…

Vignettes

poetry
  I An old man wipes his glasses with a handkerchief with no corners. He remembers in circles. He cries in circles.   II A day laborer stands on a…

A White Bowl

poetry
              Dawn.  Waiting for you at the café among the whitewashed posadas.  Shadows stir with dim awakenings.               …