Friday, May 18, 2012

rings (grounded)

rings (grounded)

when she discovered
she could no longer fly

she turned her back to him
each night & silently cried

nocturnal tears of supplication
about her sudden grounding

fearful surrendering her name
had clipped her secret wings

wondering if that golden band
had anchored her to the earth

how could a man who would never fly
never lose his name begin to understand

her morning steps fell heavy
her eyes swollen—ringed dark

this wife grounded like an angel
snared in the alluring net of "i do"

Thursday, May 17, 2012

these prepositions of love

these prepositions of love

and this i was asked
are you in love?

there at in i tripped
over that preposition

am i in love
like standing in a hurricane
tempest in a teacup

am i under love
like a man under water
a prisoner underfed

am i over love
like a man overboard
toes over a ledge

am i into love
like falling into her
she into me

am i against love
like a back against a wall
holding her against all odds

am i below love
like the true below the surface
hitting below the belt

am i above love
like the moon & stars above
my heart above the law

am i about love
like a bud about to bloom
a man about to cry

these prepositions of love
i do not know & cannot claim
because my bones & flesh
have committed to the verb of this

to make love

not like a mason or seamstress
not like a king or baker
not like a poet or singer

just me near you
to gather together

i am with love

Thursday, May 10, 2012

the everyday motion of artifacts

the everyday motion of artifacts

someone walks into the closet
behind me

there in the dark quiet corner

we are aware of each other
shoes and clothes

and it may be only in closets
where we can be together and alone

lightening horizontal and silent
the night after a supermoon

watching a lover dress after showering
just her disappearing piece by piece

folding a daughter’s clothes delicate
and warm from the tumbling dryer

her handwriting across an envelope
and inside the card those initials

recollection memory dream drawn from
the everyday motion of artifacts

i am wrapped inside every moment of this
and drawn to antiseptic sunshine against skin

but there is a perfection to inadequacy and failing
that promises nothing and worships everything

like a book out of place on a bookshelf arranged
as if finding were something meant to be a system

as if burden were a magician’s slight of hand
hers slipped into mine in a dark closet among clothes

Friday, May 4, 2012

the gathering (May Day)

the gathering (May Day)


let’s gather outside
pray for rain

we’ll kiss the tears
off each other’s cheeks

until the clouds gather
open for us

maybe we’ll draw a crowd
to stare into the sky

our songs from salty lips
will be our hymns

against the doubts & fears
fading at our feet

just maybe
there’ll be no more good-bye’s