Poem: Deathbed Wisdom

Deathbed Wisdom The shadow of her arm falls long across the wall. Once, she’d climbed a bald cypress in summer wearing an ivory shift. Once, she’d kissed a stranger in a rainstorm who tasted of bourbon and sea spray. The electric impulse of her stutters, fails. Her body sighs. The recording machines, always bright, alwaysContinue reading “Poem: Deathbed Wisdom”

Poem: “The Heart Again”

The Heart Again There’s the heart of course, and the tongue, and the way the shoulder still hurts despite being ignored out of existence. There’s a calf, twitching. There’s a muscle beneath the knee There’s the ones that join the eye that sees unsaid things. There’s the heart again. There’s the heart again. What doesContinue reading “Poem: “The Heart Again””

Poem: “There May Always Be the Trees”

Reading my poem, “There May Always Be the Trees” first published in Bloom. There May Always Be the Trees Night came in early— November and a first dusting. A cold stone wall, our dog, woods beyond the field all becoming a mystery at dusk. The fear of unnecessary injury and the winding down of theContinue reading “Poem: “There May Always Be the Trees””

Poem: “Retreat Wounded”

Poem, “Retreat Wounded,” published in First Literary Review-East. Retreat Wounded We made the best of a gray day, playing explorer on a riverbank not far from the road. You hunted heart-stones, ones that I’d fill in a bamboo bowl. Bluegrass music floated down from an upriver camp, reminding us that we weren’t alone. You calledContinue reading “Poem: “Retreat Wounded””

Photo: Pilings

Met up with a friend just about a month ago, mid-September, by the piers on the West Side. Overcast slightly rainy. This was right near Little Island. I liked the starkness of the pilings with the curve of the water. Almost a month later, different people, different pilings near Pier 51. The way the sunsetContinue reading “Photo: Pilings”

Poem: “Never Save the Drowning Man”

Poem recently published in The Rutherford Red Wheelbarrow Anthology 15. I finally learned the lessonafter too many seasons–never save the drowning manwho returns to the waves,never save the burning womanwho returns to the wildfire. And by save, I mean try to save,and by try to I mean fail. Flailing under the ocean,breathing in their ash.Continue reading “Poem: “Never Save the Drowning Man””