Amuse bouche: samples to whet the appetite

 

 

Weeding the Garden

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I start at the outside edges

where the light is bright, work in

on a spiral toward darker parts.

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Perennial grasses push

the edges of my patience, rampant

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root re-generation overtaking beds of

meditative practice where once insight

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blossomed purple, fuschia, yellow.

I dig deep. A garden fork

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perpendicular to the ground,

tines prying as I angle up

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releasing long-held tears.

Toss the clump

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into rusted wheelbarrow,

push it to the compost heap.

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From The Dry Valley (Radiant Press, 2019)

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On the shore

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You hurry the children 
through snack time
jammie time
story time
to bed time
sneak peeks at my legs, bare 
in your mind as my suitcase empties

 

until we goodnight the children and you 
slow 
purposefully
remove each item
and drop to the floor
my sweater, skirt, and blouse 

 

but the stockings
you toss to the ceiling 
settle on our bedside lamp
shimmer like watergrass 
on the shore 
of this hot place.

 

From This Hot Place (Thistledown Press, 2010)