Poetry

Stepping out of autumn-chilled water, sun still warming my bare skin, I glance back at the lake wondering, will this be my last swim of the season?

What brings you here? I ask. My name badge tugs at my thin floral blouse asking me the same question. My name has sorrow…

apprehension caused by awareness that a crucial detail has been left out | fear of putting into words things felt intuitively | fear that …

It was an accident, he didn’t mean to, I forced him, I provoked, I should have kept my distance, should have shut up when told…

Each day he packs. Takes pictures off the walls, adds the dish that held his morning toast. The crumbs too. One slipper goes into his bag. One stays under the bed.

a darkening sky
feeds on a bloodied woman
dawn beckons freedom

A new mother doesn’t need words to pray. Her body is a pulsing prayer in motion. If there’s a part or fiber of her body not engaged in nurturing I don’t know of it.

in a split second | life shifts | you fall | not sure if | you heard it correctly | sprawled on the ground | truth has you pinned | writing about death | placing it on paper

Blame the promiscuous breeze of Chernobyl, diesel fumes, warp-walled genes. Blame payback. Blame the consorts of unhappiness, Freud shouting Get a grip.