that thing of love, the nestwhere treasures cherished mostare held in pillowed comfort withina gauzy, delicate womb; a placewhere life grows, at least in dreaming we press each memory and why-was-it-not-a-memory andmemories wished in a dim horizoninto the soft folds of flesh and spiritheld together by threads with muffled beats we long to draw from … More that precious thing of love
I tell the story oftenbecause it is my favoriteof how I was not lookinguntil you had me seeing I walked in grayer thoughts thenmucky trail of stunted dreamsthat grabbed at heels for trippingand whetted fears for slipping It was a lesser time whereall I wanted was a lighta lucent path for beingthat led to a … More I was not looking
A man who held the Keys to HeavenReleased the lock in proclamationThat, when in full communion cry,“Holy, Holy, to God on high!”How near we are to souls we lost,Who sing among the heavenly host. With mourning gates now open wide,My tears ran free to silence pride.No finger brushed the tears aside.No mother’s gentle voice to … More Forget you not: or, Loss in the COVID spring
It’s been a long time since I’ve written a poem. This is for my Ladybug. It’s fitting that the inaugural poem for this blog is dedicated to the one who inspires my every day. Do you remember the tapping and leaping and a whirling lilt spun by a driving bodhran? Or shadows of Dolores cooling … More Remember when our hearts soared above cliffs and towers?
a tilting of air 