she circles

in softness
in un-

expected math

she’s a break from

(carnation of stars)

is she hair, is she air,
is she eddies in the

you think about daffodils
you think about light
you want to brush

her arm
in extended fluidity

reach for a pulse
tucked under her knee
now hug-held
closer to her chest


playing sort of another Moon card
as imagined in Starry Night for RT


All cheshire cats in the world feel the wind on their wire-slicked whiskers,

don’t let ’em tell you any different…

‘cept you ought to know they drink starlight

through their coats, and prowl the night

under a rare & remarkable guiltless moon.


a ‘lil ditty for RT
(somebody stop me)


stars know
my secret note
i asked the moon
to float you
~ did you get it?
please respond


micropoetry for RT


moon and stars take turns
babysitting sister halves
~itsy bitsy world


micro for RT

Morning Light

do you hear
a faint mew
from laundry room?
tortie arches her
willowy spine
on childhood
pink plush
meant to add posh
to the cardboard box
carved up, dainty
like a fingernail
moon. so quiet.
the morning
light comes

for Quickly

Dark Night 


Sounds about right: forgot to buy batteries &the moon’s as hapless.

fishing for the mother


the little girl who sits
in front of me at church
slips me a couple of feathered
owls drawn on scribble cards

& this simple roll of the dice
tells me that mary had a little lamb,
that garden apples are irresistible,
that pyramids were built by hand

a spider spins its web

mess up is printed on the back

cray cray is the comment
on the world as the pastor tries
to convince us there’s something
about Mary

but even the girls knows
the moon is
not so high we can’t go
fishing for the mother of Jesus

[prompted by A Prompt Each Day]

My Lover Is Gone

In one astral chord
The moon could stupor,
Go slack in the jaw
And, my God! My body
The once regal palm
Lies low from the reckless
Howling winds- a perpetual
Blinding, a rudderless force,
What fixture, what drizzle~
What shortness of days!

Written for Monday Wordle

For Kendra

my heart’s eye
the ministry
of the moon

coming down
in collective
bits of sunshine
pouring past the sill

and no earth
stood between
her pearl bath
and my pillow

and these three
words pressed in-
first love
(and) mother


Time Traveler

deja vu~
seized by the same moon
once again

I’ve been here before, to the other side of the moon, but I’ve wandered so long, traveled so far that I faintly recall this place–this  soft strand of fiber twisted aright in my brain. Hither and thither, so random the beauty. I see the moon, and the moon sees me as I travel upon this lighted rail for a million moons. Yet a million suns.

day dreamer
voyage to the sun~
wander love

Written for Carpe Diem #368  (1500 Km into our train ride with Aleph)