She married herself on a Thursday night in her attic room over the stairs with the pull-down ladder providing enough ceremony to replace the aisle altogether. It was a small affair, inviting only herself, wearing a dress borrowed from who she used to be. She took herself back so unconditionally, vowing out loud over the…
Tag: Poetry
The Other Side
When grief unseats my soul within the world, adrift and shining, searching for a home, I lift my face to night’s sky of star-pearled signs, crying out I am never alone. Love’s bond is the bridge to the other side. It always finds me in my time of need. And holds my heart, arriving like…
The Gospel of Winter
Do not be afraid. It’s just God, fanning the dark train of his blue gown over the forest floor, taking his seat, sifting for his mark in that secret book on his lap, from where he’ll read to us, and to the animals that stayed behind, blinking inside tree hollows, or yielding their bodies under…
Love Story
Our love has made eternity and in it we will spend, long-armed days that stretch o’er sea swells, whose rolling never ends. I come to you like a sunrise, you hold me like the moon. One heart imbued with forever, One soul to light the fuse. What wealth abides as we stay here, What wealth…
Dragonfly
She spent years underwater, feeling God prepare her body below the sensible bulrushes, below the savage certainty of need. She made a home there inside that holy hunger, her terrible jaw a bloody cup filling over and over again. One day it would all make sense. One day— just before dawn, on a reed, she…
A prayer upon waking
I kneel over the Walden Pond in me, a deep green Earth’s eye into which I see the secret of the poet’s sacred art of striking at the stone to find the heart. With pen and pad I rise to walk the land, whose pleas roll through my soul and out my hand. I’ll speak…
Rock Bottom
There will be a day and it could be this one where you will finally know what you have to do and you’ll begin on your knees at first tombed in your house with the old voice of doom in your ear and the rot of apology on your breath you’ll walk outside where crickets…
960 Days!
I don’t do this enough. Journal about one of the 960 days that comprise my sobriety tonight. I have many journals of day ones and day 30s and they still mean everything to me and are very much a part of the 960 today. All of those broken pieces have been repurposed to form the…
Born Again
Rilke said everything is gestation and then birthing I know this is true because the second time I was born after he broke everything not just my heart after I spoke everything not just my heart and years moved and my soul moved mutely in the dark unsayable nothing I emerged from that womb
Morning affirmations
I open my kitchen blinds and gape at the hawk, perched on the garden lamp at the edge of my lawn. She notices everything with those prehistoric, ravening eyes, like two old stars, charged with origin stories far more savage than mine. She isn’t here to sing— She’s here to scream— To tear meat from…
Sobriety Poet 