Before a Warhol Installation

Imagined promise
standing inside an echo
clutching a can of soup
with no crackers

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Neon over a junkyard

When night
reaches obscene levels of blue
and air is permeable
(not like Venus),
who will you conquer
when the wind cries, “mercy!”

Beyond Wind

I.

A terrible wind
kept me from descending
the other side of the upper knoll-
I should have known
my walk was not meant to be
when a gust slammed the car door,
cutting my leg
as I tried to get out,
but yet I tried to make the trail…

II.

Clouds moved swiftly
with a rolling March thunder
and I could see rain
over the hills nearby.

I paused near woods’ edge,
watching bare trees bend
and lake waves crash on the dock.
My time slipped away faster
with words unused.

III.

A buffeting cold
increased with each step.
The clouds seemed to pick up speed.
My boots sank in wet leaves.
I felt a little disoriented,
sky and earth spinning.
Like I had lived this moment before
and was about to choose
a different end.

IV.

There was something lurking
just past the footbridge –
I could not see it, but a presence
pulled at me to turn back.

I made a choice
to turn away,
ignoring curiosity
because I am used to being filled
with wonder.

Lost

We lost something,
but it’s ok, since
you said it was like vapor,
merely imagined
and not like the stone wall
that’s there now.
I miss the mist
and how it surrounded
like a song
like…
like comfort.
I’ve learned
to see on a clear day.
But I miss the mist.

Natural Woman

I didn’t make it
all the way
to the woods
before the silvery stretch
of quiet highway
claimed me,
a sentimental victim,
creeping forward
and I collapsed
against the wheel
in tears,
bent before the open sky.

A moment
of freedom
overwhelmed.

Pulling over,
I saw the small Amish school
just ahead,
with the dozen or so pairs
of shoes lined up outside
on a shelf.
The tears rolled
as quietly as the years
as I sat recalling
lonely playgrounds,
time lost to hope,
and answers I found only in books.

Nostalgia
dismissed
in the forgotten.

Pulling up to the lake
to begin my walk,
geese welcomed me,
their curses and squawks
just like family.
My tree,
though broken,
still shivered a greeting
and tears welled again,
as I found my step
more sure in the woods
than anywhere else.