I sit with my back against a wall
the last dancer has gone
strains of music linger
in a sleeve of silence
unsettled air
from the cuff of movement
footprints urge me
to cover them with my own
one more time
Published – Coe Review, Fall 2010
I sit with my back against a wall
the last dancer has gone
strains of music linger
in a sleeve of silence
unsettled air
from the cuff of movement
footprints urge me
to cover them with my own
one more time
Published – Coe Review, Fall 2010
upon the taste of color
in a ruddy pear
and my hands at the keyboard
into Brahms
upon people’s voices
that pass without consequence
as garbage trucks roll
with rain possible
upon trying to be less wordless
as water runs in the kitchen sink
and minutes fast forward
on the clock face
upon the blueness of a blue sky
the truth of each day
and my steps in rhythm
lightly on the avenue
upon soundless wishing
and the never ending shock
at the swift departure of days
as they slip silently away
upon my need to give voice
to the dancer within
insisting on spoonfuls and spoonfuls
of time now offered on the winter street
upon rubbed out beginnings
marked cancel
and how to move those moments across the board
upon my sister’s death
and the autumn
in all the leaves that fall
missing her
upon this new year without her
it goes on
it goes on darling without you
the pain of that
upon holding the neck of the shiny horse
as the merry-go-round swirls
and turning to see are you watching for me
as i come ’round?
upon the sudden brightness
of the present day
as I pick up time
and sling it forward.
Eclipse, 2009