In the Shadow of the Boot

Small talismans piled up

along arms and in ears and around necks,

we count as we walk,

wondering when the Big Boot will come

and squash us into the ground.


Between reveries and hunger

is where we keep defeat at bay,

our bangles jangling a joyful noise.


November reflection

November reflection



gloomy moss

from your fists

array a wreath of longing

from whatever’s left

of woodsy wandering

leave a memory

of what’s never been

let us germinate

Simple animals

Before he flew away,

I asked about love and death,

since that’s all we are-

such simple animals

It didn’t seem odd to us,

a woman and a bird

conversing about such things;

we know of flight and loss

He said I was silly

to even ask;

whatever answer he’d manage

wouldn’t be enough

He gave me allegories

about boxes and tethers,

saying the trick is to find rest

inside the tender trap