POEM ALONE

 The crisp shadow of the chain-link fence scallops the sidewalk into the perfectly even, orderly scales of a round-eyed fish, gliding with a...

Early this morning, voices     through the bedroom window. Men in the canyon below, trying to rip away the vines strangling the native oaks....

 I will be an old woman who feeds crows. Speak to them as if to friends held long in my memory. I will toss wiener chunks in a softball unde...

The sky is wide enough for every bird, every cloud, every wandering dream. It stretches endlessly, offering room for every breath. Yet lonel...

you don’t enter rooms you adjourn them, quietly soft-voiced, spine straight, as if composure were something you tailored yourself  between d...

Along the southern perimeter, the dawn street sounds alarm as a robin whistles its tits off in the evergreen magnolia. Northward, foreign ma...

The words my father never said: his lost country. In early morning  dark, I adjust the lamp so no shadow  obscures the page, pen scratching ...

5000 years ago or maybe last year, she wrote a book that some people borrow from the library in Castlebar The book is returned with an unspo...

What takes me to tar-patched cracks on a tree lined street? I know how the concrete looks, Brown and aging like an old map, Black roads that...

Today, I choose to plant words     that will bloom tomorrow. Not just the soothing–fleeting feeling      of a new season.  I want it slow ...