How To Heal
It's been nine months since I cut my finger nearly to the bone, September 2022, the knife laying Indifferently on the counter as the blood Gushed across the kitchen tiles, across Everywhere, six stitches three hours Later in the Jefferson County West Virginia emergency room. I was alone And I have remained mostly alone since, Grown alone, in October severing [...]
Another Poem About Roses, etc.
The roses have enjoyed the Rain so much this year that I’ve been slamming them all May in the door, their drowsy Petal-heavy necks bowing To my screen door’s guillotine— Deflowered once weekly and guilty Of nothing more than growing. Oh, it’s hard to grow isn’t it? Not Tall, I mean. Or lost. Or old. No, these Things aren’t hard, [...]
On The Appalachian Trail, May 15, 2023
I've been eating bread and Honey mostly lately, Cat hair on the counter Where my shedding twins Know not to hop— But more specifically Know not to hop When I'm watching. I clean and I tidy, Do yoga daily, Tend to the farm. Days of growing revelation: On the Appalachian Trail, Raven Rocks, near Bluemont Virginia, peeing into a Thicket [...]
The Girl Who Went Adventuring
The girl who went adventuring Picked up her heart one day Where she had stored it in the pantry And placed it in her pocket. Out by the river she floats Through the bluebells marveling, Spicebush, sassafras, vaguely Thinking, "Have I ever seen a paw paw?" No matter. So many thorns to catch On her clothing, so many sticks To [...]
Fallen Fence (v.2.4)
The fence in the woods Has finally fallen, Propped all this time by The sinewed remains of Honeysuckled deer bones, Single mistimed leaps Where, twisting, twisting, The leg at last is liberated And the carcass molders to Apatite and phosphate, Bowled into the lap of soil. Have you followed these fences Too? Rusted intent, its barbed Wire poised to puncture [...]
Ain’t Nothing Straight (v.2.3)
So long, 2020. Here's a reluctant paean: Ain’t nothing straight: This farm house Bain to masons; The jigsawed barn Anathema— in 2007 A one-footed carpenter Threw his hammer over The hill, and I found It years later Ensconced with rust; In 1999, the Venetian Complimented the fence rows— So straight, so precise— Ignoring the rolling hills. The wind? Not straight [...]