the wind sets us

which is the best kind
of place to be
for half-crazy
angels & saints,

& there’s no denying
the wind has ever failed
to give us fair & clear warning
you will be cold,

yet for all her openness
ever mad is the grass
& green is the call to commune
flattened out, face down
beside the jasmine vine
bursting with heady scent

& it sounds pretty good
don’t you think?
to have the weather
& sky be the only
weighty things on our backs

wind & air, —
are never too raw
nor is the way
we empty our shoes
of ourselves

but, if a brisk (or gentle) wind
ceased to stipple our cheeks,
or if the grass stopped tickling
the hollow of our souls,
well, i think i would certainly die
in devotion & in mind


for Real Toads
“We all go a little mad sometimes.” – Psycho

i’ve eaten a cure

i’ve eaten a cure song

and let it drip down my hands

juice falling from my fingertips

(the password is pomegranate)

and without saying poem, or night

and without saying i love you (really)

and without knowing how flesh can swim

i bank on our desire to see that red ruby

sea (part)


for Real Toads


the winky eye

you; +me
accidents in love
have the stars aligned?

sorting through
what shines brightest
thus; willed by will

23: NaPoWriMo


, we
didn’t invent it
(we can’t pronounce nude)
is this the right language?

remember the time afterward
you asked if it was strange
(that sudden urge) to pray

give thanks for this
lifetime (agreement)
finished in a moment

sometimes (we cry, lord)
we wake up to a soundtrack
in our eye
we didn’t invent

we have to wonder
(,we) creation or myth?
nightgown, or shadow
shapes in Gethsemane?


19: NaPoWriMo and Real Toads

i can never

seem to do you justice
by writing b-e-a-u-t-y
or taking a picture
with this old camera
— one eye always open


18: for d’Verse


I.     morning

is only half-
an in

II.   flesh

cut a slow
path, – it’s a heart,
you know

III.  sunlight

the way is
brought to light

IV.   knees

have we
but a beggar’s prayer?


15: NaPoWriMo

i know a few things by heart

like how to make french toast,
potato salad, deviled eggs,
that you like tomato soup
with patty melts and cheese,
that you’re happy once a year
with peanut butter and jelly
cake, legitimately pleased
that i understood the science
your mom taught me of how to
mix just the right amount of
sugar and milk into it, though
it’s an art and not a science
she would say, to which i whole-
heartedly agree, though today
is not the day for any of these
fixes, but for scrubbing up
the plastic bowls she lovingly
advised you to stop placing
in the microwave, about which
i’ve reminded you only once
of her paper-thin hands in our
dishwater since she’s been gone,-
we’d know her hands anywhere


2: PAD and NaPoWriMo

On International Women’s Day

three women used their phone app
to find Lois of Clovis
who was in over her head
with more than a child or five (or six?)
how had those golden thread heads dissolved
like Splenda packs in lukewarm water? just
where did they go, and where are they now?
now Lois was lost in her haystack house
with a sugar lump melting on her hip,
a vacuum cord ominously threatening to stop her
should she try to open the front door,
say “this is it.” “come in.”
Lois bit her lower lip,
and the three friends immediately came in.
one woman lit to the kitchen, started running
hot water, adding gleeful soap suds.
one woman’s hands began skillfully
folding tiny clothes and undersized underwear
careful to separate picture books from zippered pajamas.
one woman knelt on the toy room floor
separating Mr. Potato Head’s limbs and lips
from a smattering of what was labeled this-n-that.
and the three women loved her.
and Lois of Clovis fed her sugar baby
while the two little walking bumble bears
robed, disrobed, giggled and hid their winsome smiles
beneath plastic woven laundry baskets.
and all at once, when everyone saw the haystack was re-moved
that the floor was clean, – well, their gumption exploded
into pink, blue and green party balloons!
and Lois of Clovis, -awake, sleepy, anxious, stunned,
was changed, –


for Quickly & Real Toads

I’m completely

over this
backlit peach
silhouetted by
a blushing moon

what is this world
that i should
be in it?


Imaginary Garden

before dinner

i was breathing
light &easy,
jogging around
a circle loop
atop Jackson Lake
in my nondescript
tennis shoes.
i passed a smaller
camp’s empty amphitheater.
one more time,
i went down &around
the loop filled with sugar pines,
darting bluejays,
this time noticing bench seating
carved into the earth.
i circled again,
young enough not to break
a sweat traipsing over hill
and vale. this time
a cross entered my vision.
i kept jogging around
those cross beams
looping again. &again.
until on the 7th loop
i stopped &embraced it
“see how much I love you”

&that’s when
i was breathless


Love for Real Toads