Like a willow
branch that must rise
and sway
with the evening
wind, she raises her hand
and runs her fingers
through her hair.
“Scars,” “Crossing the San Andreas Fault Zone” and “Old Souls Singing in the Chiricahuas”
Traces—faint or bold, visible, or not—left by scalpel, scandal, scurrilous tongues, the scalding steam from a cast-iron kettle, the scolding tones in a mother’s voice, the screams of a child scared straight.
Read more.“Olive,” “Dishwasher” and “Orange”
Who was the first to try
an olive ripe from the tree,
the paltry flesh over stony seed
so bitter it must be poison?
Who learned the magic
to make it succulent?
“Fish,” “Paper” and “Unsteady”
What are these fragile little lightning dreams?
The apparitions of million ideas?
Universal clues disguised as flashing silver fins?
Fine-boned and slick,
fish swim through dark-eyed waters.
“A Pair of Sneakers from Far Away,” “Asking the Mid-Autumn Moon Out on a Date” and “Two Chestnut Trees”
Like the sky that shines
because of dawn,
I shine
because of a pair of sneakers
wrapped in a package
sent from longing.
They have flown
across several oceans.
“Cancer,” “Where It Starts” and “Anatomy of Disaster”
The life lived in the body
Was the blood, warm in the veins.
White halos of icy breath,
Frost caught in the sportsground lights.
How you ran and played hard for the team.