the tiniest blooms—
microscopic—must open
inside us
Month: April 2013
4/29/13: Some Days
having no woodpile
you gather lines, having no sun
you gather sighs
4/28/13: Higher Thoughts
any order
of words will do today,
any
4/27/13: Found
a plastic figure
planted to his neck, spying
on us all
4/26/13: Seen From My Window
when one bird
flies near, the others
fly away
4/25/13: Idle Observation
look at people
walking—you see some carry
weightier longing
4/24/13: Something I Said
a keel aground,
the boat tipped away, no sea
beneath us
4/23/13: Shakespeare in Heaven
how bored he must be,
sets inside his head and only
soliloquies
4/22/13: Late Spring
pale skin even
in bright light—we wait for days
fit to color us
4/21/13: Outside the City
so dark
glimmering eyes seem
to rage like flame
