The clouds: clear.
I move the lamp closer
to get better light.
Pathway of such
an illumination of a person,
means daffodils, cocoons broken open
auburn by monarch wings,
gives us better perception
of light. Signal a warning,
shoot arrows, light
fireworks, gallop a palamino
to deliver a message, carry
with relatively little weight,
primary of color,
wait none, luminary,
oh dominus, coronate me,
radiant, […]

todays poem
gentian
(persephone’s lament)
How tempting it is,
it’s lavender trumpet,
sounding with glee, hypnotic
as a glance from Orpheus,
come to me,
come to me now.
It is said, you heal,
but yet, you
tell me lies.
Tell me you are the most
beautiful, beckon me to you,
fragrant, lit up
like a lantern.
I was just a child.
Call to me. Kidnap me.
Rape me.
The eyelets of my dress
are […]

today’s verse
Milkwater Ink
Our names do not appear
when written on paper
in milk and then heated
in lamplight. Tell me
something I don’t already know.
What attracts moths
to light?
They burn their wings
to get closer to it,
dive towards a certain death.
For what?
Those who do penance by flagellation
think suffering will bring them
closer to God.
Think that tying a piece
of a saint’s golden hair […]

today’s poem
Hummingbird
I, like the hummingbird,
like to bury my nose
in the cardinal points
of roses
and remembered today
walking through Grand
Central to look up.
Wondered who lives
above the stars
counting time:
wasn’t it me running
through the woods,
looking for you
standing still
beneath a maple branch,
coaxing a wild bird
to sit on your shoulder?
Was it a ghost?
I remembered you.
You were sugar on my lips
when I trembled
like […]

today’s poem
Earth is my Witness
It’s this root, seeker who seeks
the onyx ringed night king,
diver looking for treasure
in the black coats of the dead.
Blackberry minded with
a portend of sweetness
on the tongue.
I wonder what richness
lies ahead-
how these grass flowers
can grow so tall so fast-
I can almost see
light ahead, above,
around me, earth
said she would be my witness.
Boughs of […]

At morning, draft
After At Great Pond By Mary Oliver
This sun,
over wave,
over leaflings,
and things
who wish still,
over the thick
velvet shadows
of branches
over hope
tumbling,
like white feathers
emptied from
the buckets
of night.
Starlings dive
from dark waters,
morning.
This morning
oracles of birds
sing me.
Dark flowers
reach still
for what is light
coming through
the heave of water.
Who will find me
covered in […]