Draw the curtains, we’ll
dress all in white to
catch what light gets in.
NOVEMBER 2020
Before you fold—hands
and sheets—leave a plate out for
all your holy souls.
OCTOBER 2020
This, our devotion
to what’s slipping away—the
world, wine in our cups.
SEPTEMBER 2020
Those catch-me-keep-me
nightfalls evaporate—we
never had a chance.
AUGUST 2020
It’s that memory
of sea. She’s depositing
us—foam on the shore.
JULY 2020
Find the foothold in
your mind and skyward climb the
spires of larkspur.
JUNE 2020
Make room for sacred
fires that need setting, the stars
that need to come down.
MAY 2020
Lay the blanket by
the well, we’ll wear hawthorn in
our hair—open up.
April 2020
Keep us at bay, but
we’ll be baying over beds
‘til the ground breaks, green.
MARCH 2020
This tendering brings
new meaning—breaking hulls is
not a bloodless show.
FEBRUARY 2020
The bottom of this
monthless basin drains into
Pan’s pool—so, we plunge.
January 2020
One more sun at our
backs, we feel for the switch—the
eagle turns her head.
DECEMBER 2019
Stringing and forcing
bulbs (light and color)—these are
our inside voices.
NOVEMBER 2019
The silvering of
morning, our breathing—the veil
covering my lips.
OCTOBER 2019
Hours of change are
still ours—watch the heavens
spinning in the sand.
SEPTEMBER 2019
After the flare of
the match strike, we’re off. I try
to stop to wave, “bye.”
AUGUST 2019
Swept up in snapped-branch,
green-peppered air—shaking the
sunset off my heels.
JULY 2019
Sweet, honeysuckle-
lit twilight sits—the highpoint
on the Ferris wheel.
JUNE 2019
Make it a marriage
to the sun—the meteors
our showering rice.
MAY 2019
We circle madly,
celebrate mortality.
We fall down dizzy.