She Belongs to the Water
As languid rivulets
trace the crevices
between earth and stone
Her body breathes,
yields, surrenders
This narrow passage
We’re all just making it through
this narrow passage
Tend small things:
Birds, houseplants, soul
with tender care
Night Grows Weary
Heavy has the sun hung low
As if ice has pressed her down
As if night is winning
the arm wrestling
competition
Where I Live (spoken word)
The bottom drops away
and I jump
out of my skin
that wasn’t there
And I laugh
Let bones rattle to the floor… (spoken word)
Peel away the skin
Let bones rattle to the floor
To be gathered in loving arms
Brought to the fire
To cook, to char
Winter Moon (spoken word)
Brushed by the
hand of the wind
Her ten-thousand hands
Laughing as they paint,
breathe, paint…
