Saturday, July 20, 2013



Listen closely

though daily chaos-cotton muffles
         
          Night's a silent jack hammer to
 tortoise shells
          of tasks-
          and-
          to-
          dos

Peel your eyes
and beneath the layers, find,

     the fragile blue canary
   
     Limping.

Hear now
         how she breathes,
        
          the Thick cream
         of memories

         Restless.
         Waiting.

     Reach now slowly
into her feathers
 
Feel them hunger
    
after Yellow
    or perhaps
    a chance
             to
                 Die.

         Haunting.



Wednesday, July 3, 2013

the new big

the spiral bothers her now,
how neat and clean it seems
while Life is messy.
She likes to tear things up and glue them on.
Keep the beauty free of fancy.

It occurred to her
At the cabin/
Around the Flying Pig/
In the garden/
that Small
      is big
and the people,
their nuances and charms,
are worth
knowing.

Suddenly it's strange, how
achieving used to be her food
but now
it's

Just

Breathing~

the milky lavender of an unexpected iris,
the porch swing,
letters on handmade papers,
expressions on faces,
the words
marching
swaying
singing
           across tables and warm space,
the fluidity of ink&brushes.

She has Decided now

that

slowing down
Does Not mean
stopping...

             It only means

Starting
over
Smarter,

Letting wrinkled edges Win.