For the first time in ages, I wound my father’s wristwatch, which I keep on my work table next to his brother’s old briar pipe. The trusty Hamilton started ticking immediately. The tiny secondhand, set in a circle built into the face where the 6 should be, started making its way around. Now, several hours later, I see the watch is still running — as am I, apparently, though I […]
I see faces floating
on the pond:
will be my own?
before the answer:
the pond grows
Songs and Letters, December 28, 2006
Another Song I Know, Cosmopsis Books, 2007
And if the sky is a well, and a well is the mind,
then perhaps thirst is the flight of our kind.
And when I say this is really a drawing of her hands,
I wonder, who will be able to imagine them?
You made the sky purple,
the boy drawing with me in second grade said.
But which boy? And what was his name?
From the bare lilac,
eyes the crocus;
that’s what I know.
Poems, Slightly Used, February 23, 2010
After all is said and done
the wind chime
to the falling snow
Poems, Slightly Used, March 9, 2011