gothic banjo

cannot abide joyless carousing

betwixt seas
of crackling repartee
and seams
of corduroy comfort
there lies a world of velvet
where believers can rub both sides
and still be free of judgement

shall we ask
for direction
or spin wildly
at the pace
of a champion plucker

will not swallow egregious descriptors

between pages
of forgotten pressed flowers
and nibbles
of leaking pen nibs
there can be stains
foretelling futures
without any past at all

little girl blue and the man on the moon

it’s getting colder
and I’ve grown stiffer
playing Cats Cradle is too poignant
though I like the sound
of young laughter

near a fire, rocking
windy music flows
through window cracks
recalling another December
when I was still golden, not yet ripe

we sang to records
over and over
he taught me harmony
by being close
and how to dance
by placing my small feet on his

tree branches reach for my house
when wind pushes them at night
startling me to the present
while their shadows take me
to seek warm memories of cold seasons

leaping

consolation in swift thoughts
when all is still
like the pond in summer
stagnant, stifling
awaiting cleansing storm

moving felt right
with closed eyes
leaping across cuts in the earth
thirsty for rain
tired of watching reeds stand guard
willing them to bend, sway

peace in fought-for breath
being quiet
like the creek feeding the river
rolling, reeling
avowing sated spirit

my hawk in morning

shaking away sleep
and patterns that haunt
I look to the sky
to the red-tailed hawk
who has been my companion
for years of sunrises
and foggy afternoons

he dips a greeting
as he wheels across dawn
and I mark his span
as welcoming as a lover’s embrace

somehow I breathe deeper
when I watch him soar
feeling myself not rooted
but flying too

not stopping

shedding veils
dancing to rhythm of thunder and stars
dizzying pace
we are consumed

working backwards
tracing one end and another beginning

does the earth feel the steps
taken in haste
less than the sinking to knees
in heartfelt supplication

starting anywhere
bringing circles to close

tearing cloth
baring tender shoots of veins
sweltering shock
they are renewed

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