grand staircase in the woods

rebuild from memory
the plans I drew
when I was eight
on playground dust
when all lay ahead
the extra room
just to read
separate from the rest

an escape
with made-up names
for special rooms
in the woods
people come and never stay
loneliness is irrelevant

open to new memory
draw on loam
near where I live
images of what I think
a light that only I see
a guide imagined
a relief
to give freely

some days

some days fold joyfully
full of promise
like moonglow over the hills
welcoming tumbling stars
to bowing grasses
blowing in the night breeze

some days carry songs
ancient and true
through branches reaching
for warm sun’s enfolding grace
breaking breath and heart
with hopeful melody

red sky in morning

in a nod from the clock
I rose
without a derivative thought
to the tune of an eclipse

while they were all busy
with superlatives
and cosmos theories
I held my teeth in
with my tongue
wanting to cry out
since it’s been too long

am I not glowing anymore?

I can’t gather
what they don’t see
how I’m burning within
and why
can’t I go
find me
that’s a myth too
like the moon and her girdle

meet me in my garden

found what I needed
embedded in rusty edges
unbidden by quiet spiders
spinning silky death

feet slipping through soft earth
fingers shifting leaves

masking moonbeams
ripe with meaning

sometimes your stories haunt me
and I want you
to show me what lurks beneath
mossy rocks and night

nothing can frighten
a heart busy and full

meet me in my garden
we will find new songs to write

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