At those times
when I feel in harmony
with the world
Every clock dances
with 12:12, 3:03 or
other synchronous pairs
before moving on to
the next minute in time
Conversely, hands
on a discordant clock
suspend time as
they stretch and point
toward numbers that disagree
Like a flashing red light
they warn again and again
that the world has become too much
‘In the city’ where music danced on the night lights we dashed store to store over snowbanks, between cars through crowds of people across the cobblestone streets trying to avoid puddles of slush – don’t slip! meet. regroup and divide. meet again outside under the Shepard clock closely guarding our Christmas secrets only the constant…
Nights you’d prowl the house in stark contrast to days of nursing/moving/coaxing Did you slip away, certain your baby was asleep – forgetting she was an only child soon to miss the warmth of your body? or was it a need from deep inside to have some part of each day silently to yourself? It…
At first a few leaves lay scattered on the ground but by Wednesday whole yards were covered Lawns returned to green only when weekend gardeners shredded and swept the interlopers It is early August, yet the Tulip Poplar doesn’t care Years ago, its broad yellow leaf intrigued me, as reaching between the Manual of Woody…
Another summer of drought the Matta, Ni and Po rivers come and go signs noted along the highway At the Rappahannock I become aware how devastating the absence of rain has been there is little evidence a river ever ran through here, but Somewhere to the southeast the Rappahannock gathers its waters once again unto…
After reaching the waterfront she settled on the old concrete bulkhead next door I at the end of the dock Maisie rested against my hip as Fox and I regarded each other from a suitable distance A few water birds passed lazily overhead but did not disturb And so we sat ignoring, and wondering about…
The day’s hot breath lingered forcing fireflies out of the grass. Soundlessly they rose – rising blink-ing rising – pausing in the trees, slowly charting their way ever upward. Occasionally we’d catch one in an old jar, while grownups sat in lawn chairs and chatted. Mostly we just ran around small, thin arms o u…