Fading Memories

The rain falls
my lips soften

Slowly
I remember
to breathe

Waiting
for my world to stop
and the sun to rise

fading
memories

like ripples
in your pond
before it freezes
for winter

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Sometimes healing…[fifteen words]

Sometimes
healing
is surviving
and climaxing
in loving
and falling
and the touch
of you

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Seasons Slip

My foot slips
and I slide
the thundering sound
of tumbling rocks
blinds me
until
I can no longer see
or dream
you

My mind slips
and I fall
and curl
into myself
making
the gutter my home
as autumn leaves
cover me
waiting
for the green man
to claim me
again

and I spit
and claw
resisting
fighting
refusing
to surrender
even as death
taunts
until I forget
to breathe
waiting
for snowfall

26 September 2018

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Something New

I’ve been looking
for something
new

I want every day
to be the first day

Beginner’s mind
the zen masters call it

Every breath
a beginning
every exhale
a letting go

I get lost
on the road
beneath my feet
where everything
is teeming with life
while my laboured breaths
reek of death

And still I walk on

Looking for something
that feels like a brightly plumed bird
beating its wings against my heart

Is it you?

16 July 2018

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Sing for Me

And if

I place my lips

just so

will you sing for me?

25 June 2018
from the English Channel

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Crossroads

It is summer
and I am ill
falling
fast

I am listening
to the blues
to Robert Johnson
and wondering
about crossroads
and old roads
and intersecting paths
and the old ways
chants heard
in lush green leaves
prayers
and blessings
witchcraft

It is summer
and I am surrounded
by roses
and lavender
and geraniums
and hanging baskets
with unknown flowers
cascading
over the sides
like a floral invocation
to unnamed goddesses
everywhere

The wind
blows
in the afternoon
It no longer
plays havoc
with my curls
They’re gone away now
wherever it is
illness takes them

At night the air stills
stars sparkle
and glitter
like you once said
my eyes did

It is summer
and I am surviving

loss
and renewal
and relentless sickness
and time
in all its
temporary majesty

20 June 2018
on the Sussex Coast

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the fragility of summer

She Lay Waiting

she lay
curled in upon herself
more spiral
than fetal
more sudden stillness
than feral beauty

the forest floor
was damp
with decomposing
birth and death
may-shine slipped
through young
summer leaves
danced across her
naked form
adding light
and shadow
to the streaks of dirt
and blood
painted on her skin
as though
she were nothing
more than a canvass

and so she was

a sleeping
summer
art form

waiting

17 May 2018

Shamrock Forest
Shamrock Forest, Decatur, Georgia