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Here’s the beautiful thing about
this dream we live together across
time, space, generations
(you do realize it’s all a dream, don’t you?)
we hold souvenirs from our trips and don’t realize it:
a ring that i wear,
and you wore, and she wore,
before another wore,
i don’t know what it looked like but
i assume we all have the same
long fingers thin to set it.
a framed sketch of Young Eve,
an antique chair (i reupholstered in green)
how i feel us all sit down at once
with our dreamy books perfuming our small room,
together slipping away in revelries
specific to our own moments in time.
isn’t it amazing to travel infinitely this way,
and others will join us later too,
Come along now~

A flutter of teases
shivering up the spine of each leaf
until the whole shakes like a belly laugh.

(You can’t force someone to see it; you
have to wait until they make time to
discover their own)

if I were a tree in the wind,
I’d giggle every time my skirt lifted at the ends,
shimmy, shimmy down to roots.

You had told him,
don’t mow that part of the lawn
let it stay pretty a little while longer.

Magnolia blossoms spread out like
a soft pink tree skirt,
verdant grass now growing older, taller.

You squealed joyfully when the wind blew:
us women on rocking chairs
and more petals like snow falling, fresh.

(sun rises)

don’t ask
the sun to change its course. everyone knows
the east wins the morning,
west dictates the night.
don’t pine for a
brand new shirt, or a new
route home. don’t beg to erase lines,
they are carbon-dated.

(next day, sun rises)

my father and mother know this. my sister too.
a small child shakes her head with a laugh,
so elementary.

(next day, sun rises)

a leopard
loves his spots; he sits smugly in his tree,
licking a paw absently.
everyone knows this.

(next day, sun rises)

Have you ever looked so closely at your hand that you lose all sense of place and self? Try it now… what do you see? Have you ever seen your own skin this way before?

Discovering My Own Hand

At one time i didn’t exist
except in dreams of woman and man,
(mom and dad!)
yet now, i am here,
setting out free from such
long arm – trekking through
unfamiliar terrain to a
sharp rising range of arteries
jutting above
quiet rivulets of blue. These appear suddenly,
silken, subtle, like glacier waters
ancient below thin cave walls.
Looking closer, there is a cobbled road,
a patchwork of steps leading north.
Like Frost, i take this lesser way,
carefully avoiding
crevasses deepened by time,
weaving through
small hairs, delicate like seaweed,
to venture finally to such rosy
oyster-shell pearl plains.
Here, i take my rest, grateful for the journey,
feeling night’s gentle breeze
like breath from my folks.

I can offer you nothing more than this
single flutter of an eyelash.

You can offer me no more than a wink back
inhale, exhale
then that too is gone.