Nobody warned me
about the sound of skeleton laughter,
ribcages shaking like bells,
airless chuckles cracking the hot night,
slipping through the closet slats
into my skull.

It was fine with just Meg:
supermodel cheekbones,
a jaw that could steal my name.
We shared the closet,
my jackets brushing her collarbone.
"your flesh prison
can't wear that many anyway."

Then came her sister,
then another,
until nine of them
rattled teacups at 2 A.M.,
dripping through the floorboards.
My shirts fled to the hall.
I dream of thunder
that silences their bones.

They call it a ****** of crows -
but what waits in the dark,
rattling its teeth
for the last of you,
is a plague of skeletons.

fish, locally caught
a neighbours gift

still wriggling
just as smeagol likes them

Walking through the fabled night
of ancient skies and gray sidewalks
Stepping into the world
of hot humid June

When metals towered over the sky,
Like match sticks lined up above stones
the luminescent streets blazed
into the night

Those glasses that shimmered
bright lights and yellow fireworks,
Falling with gravity,
relishing in sweet air and downfall

The wind from a distant land
that caressed the trees,
their shadows dancing
on the streets

I saw you there in broad shadows
when I marched amidst silence
I have lost my path
to the night that has fallen

But in your eternal flames, I stood
knowing that I’m still here

Adrift in salt waves,
Closer to sea than to roots
Mountains keep still.

Acrobatic
Elegance
Mixed
With mystery
Wise to the rise
Giants of the sea
Breaking free
Through depths
Of blues and greens
Like brush stokes
Through a dream
Lines and curves
Become serene
In the depths
They sing
Where
Beauty leaps
From the belly
Of the beast
Bubble trapping
Curiosity

Cool breeze on my skin
Night drifts in to fill the room
Comfort to my dreams

across my face.

I saw spring coming
in the meadow
where the wildflowers
whisper to the wind.

found freedom on a snowcapped mountain top,

smiled to the child offering violets
cradled in her tiny hands

and when she smiles to me

her joy ripples like sunlight
across the sea of love.

the curtain is lifted.

the soul becomes visible

(always in the wild places
in my heart.)

Mom said we’d have lunch
with her cousin Bobby,
driving in
from Jackson Hole, or maybe Reno,
places so far from Illinois,
I couldn’t imagine the route.

She picked me up from horse camp,
two months gone,
and said we’d stay at a motel,
cable, a pool, continental breakfast,
before shopping for school clothes.
I said OK.

Our yellow house waited
on its alley of ratty bushes.
Home had become
a question I didn’t answer.

I wanted Opal,
the sweet white mare,
and the girls from other towns
who smelled like hay
and never asked about the divorce.

Somewhere, Bobby was driving
across the country,
but all I wanted
was to go back
to the ranch.