WHEN

When your tears flow with the river
You are not alone.

When water is held in water
There is no separation.

When water matches thirst
Unexpected
Exaltation.

Let the rains fall
We are the chorus.

OPEN MY HAND

I CAN HOLD ON TO THE PAIN
OR,
I CAN OPEN MY HAND
and experience the free fall
which is quite
disorienting
having my gut
smush up into my heart
not knowing where
i will land,
if i will
land,
but think:
what is the
alternative?

Thanksgiving

I have so much life around my house
Coyotes howl
Owls in their pas de deux calling
Fox, red and grey, weasels, racoons
Bushy tailed squirrels, chipmunks, and quail
Slithering snakes—garter, gopher, and king
Blind moles, burrowing badgers
Turkeys gobbling, deer prancing, skunky stinks
Feral cats, bobcats, roof rats, bats
Cougars in the valley, a peacock on the roof
Waddling possums cross my path
Horses of course
And multiple wings—
Blue birds, black birds,  red wing
Hummingbirds thrumming
Sparrows fighting, swallows swooping, wrens" chirrup
Cedar wax wings, thrush, orioles
Cowbirds, grackles, chickadees, crows
Red tailed and red shouldered hawks
The great blue heron
Dark shadowed vultures
Seeking their prey
Crawling creatures with bellies so low
Lizards leaping, frogs a hopping, crickets whirring
Daddy-long-legs dancing up the door
I have so much in life to be grateful for.


This poem comes from my book EVERYDAY MERMAID POEMS.  A book I am collaborating on with the fabric artist Deidre Scherer.

BROKEN PICTURES

I fell to my knees when you left hon
I fell to my knees when you left babe
your betrayal broke all my pictures

I fell to my knees when i first saw you babe
I fell to my knees when I first saw you hon
your birth broke all my pictures

my pictures are all broken
my pictures are all broken
and i am not sure i should
put them back together again

terrified of all the dark
terrified of all the light

terrified of all the light
terrified of all the dark

when there is
nothing to hold them

this morning
i woke up
with this poem
in my belly
dancing

THE DEW ON THE ROSES

Be still
And feel the beating of your heart
The source of where it all began.
The silence you cannot hear
in the city night--
Is also your lover's embrace.

Toss your head back
Throw the paisley scarf
across your neck--
The one with the hand- knotted fringe
And know you are in this world
To be heard.

Written words
Are Not Enough
Lilting Hips
Are not Enough
Perfumed Lips
Are not enough
Caressing Hands
Are not enough
Raising Children
Is not enough
Working a Career
Is not enough.
You must open
those lips and
Speak
What is in your heart.

All you need is one word to start, 
Like:  "The dew!"

MISPLACED PROJECTION

for two days now
when i look out the french doors
there is a bird
with medium brown colors-
not a feather out of place-
cocking his head to one side
then the next,
looking at me.
wham his feathers pouf out
in a cape
tail back and forth
like a fan.
then, he turns his head to the sky
in rapture

this happens over and over again

i fear he's courting the wrong bird

ON BEING ALONE

it was hot tonight
and i was bored and dull inside
i opened up a watermelon
tore open its flesh
felt  the threads of pulp skim  my  mouth
as my teeth seeked  to tear the juice
from it's source
i ate and ate ate

i ate piece after piece
sliced it scooped it pulled it off it's rind
and the small round green  globe
shrunk smaller smaller in size--
a piece of rose pink jutted out
like a spear and i gnashed it whole
ravished it,
and felt the coolness on my tongue
juice dripped  down my cheek.

right there it was
right there.
nothing nothing except
me and that green globe--
and it was enough.