aayoungtwo trees were once saplings together
nested in an egg crate they fell in love
until a bittersweet morning when
they were planted far apart in a forest
he edge bound by the ocean
she in the land locked middle
for many years
they could not touch
they could not speak
time passed into grandchildren
but eventually
his roots found hers deep within the earth
now she holds the moon up in her limbs
to thank him
the creature lighted
on my window
for a moment
before returning to the sky
as if to remind me
though wings become tattered
it is still
entirely possible
to fly
“Every mile is two in winter.” – George Herbert
January
has a way…
of making atheists
of Englishmen,
country folk,
and poets.
It’s as though
they have forgotten
their prayers
and the inevitability
of cherry blossoms.
there was little indication
i was not a part of the sunlit green
moss covered bridge
afternoon
summer creeping
along the gorge
me
perfectly still
save the rise and fall
of grateful lungs
taking deep lustful breaths
of rushing creek below
my eyes set upon the soaring
white sycamore trees
where the indigenous people
of this carved miami valley
sought refuge
after glaciers melted
musing that
200 million years
isn’t so long
in the grand scheme
when my sacred peace was disturbed
by the sounds of new things
tremors caused by seven year old feet
across creaking boards
three little boys
too varied in appearance to be brothers
accompanied by an aloof
iPhone addicted mother
walking along oblivious behind them
i turned my head slowly
to observe the play
and
wait for the poem to come
the tallest of the prepubescent trio
crouched down
scooping up a daddy long legs spider
off the trail
before running onto the bridge
he set to taunting the other two boys
with the harmless creature
then dangled it toward his still absent
phone call mother
on whom
the gesture barely registered
a turn of her head
darkness came into his eyes
his gapped teeth gave way to a wicked laugh
as he cast the spider to its end
over the side of the bridge
the other two boys were distraught
over his brutality toward the arachnid
the youngest of them looked around
for an adult to whom he could run
for solace
for sense in the matter
choosing me and my quiet
over his uninvolved chaperone
he ran desperately toward my calm
to ask
if what his companion
had so cruelly
done to the spider
had killed it
could the spider survive
that fall?
he pleaded to me
hurriedly pointing to the water
tears streaming down his face
as if i were
the one
who made such choices
in that moment
i felt the age of my bones
older than pious pebbles
praying silently
in the stream
beneath us
i knelt down
so that i could look directly into his eyes
and said
no, son
i’m sorry
it’s likely
the spider did not survive the fall
but this moment
has more to teach us
about the nature of humans
than the nature of the spider
doesn’t it?
his brown eyes grew amber and wide
with new understanding
as he turned to look at his friend
the spider slayer
triumphant
in a low voice
uttering
…yes, m’am
…it does
my thursday morning
slippered feet
made their way
down the driveway
unaware
of the doe
eating flower bed blooms
in my neighbor’s front yard
i froze
coffee in hand
stooping for the paper
when my eyes found the majestic deer
so robust and noble
standing slowly
silently
stifling a giggle
as she seemed to know which plants
were the priciest
and had taken the longest to cultivate
her brazen way of saying
your quaint little cul-de-sac
is in my field and stream, fuckers
she allowed me to watch her
unafraid
because she knew we were both just girls
trying to find our footing on another morning
our babies needed to be fed
there is a light within females of every species
the wonder of creation
giving oceans inside us
it makes me want to tattoo my stretch marks
to my fertility statue frame
to make my warrior scars more visible
after all
i am a red indian
i’ve walked down the driveway
to the pond
full of night life
frogs sound like barry white
ducks are adrift in lipstick and heels
the moon is a full breasted street corner whore
the carp are bookies
the snails gotta get their shy running right
and i
am dock seated
naked in the dark content
just to be alive
a poem in my pen
for
one more night
my priority was silence
after being weighed
measured
scanned
and cavity searched
by tsa agents
i just wanted to find a quiet chair near my gate
within the noisy LAX terminal
preferably a dark corner
with no other passengers within twenty feet
lacking over-molested copies of the LA Times
and the pink sugary crumbs
of well traveled two year olds
ah, there it was
my weary feet and rolling carry-on
made their way toward flight deck utopia
a rounded blue row of seating
right by the tinted night windows
my eyes were swollen from crying
i didn’t want to leave the city
or the love i had come to find there
unable to read, think, have a smoke or a drink
all i had at that moment
was a peaceful spot
in the airport
before my red eye back home
that’s when he walked over
disturbing my solitary meditation
a learned looking man
accompanied by a worn brown leather miami university attache
i suspect he felt safer near a fellow buckeye
smiling as he read my sweatshirt
which reads
college of mortuary science cincinnati
he asked if he could sit
certainly i replied
this area is annexed for Ohio
we exchanged life stories
24 hours he had been on a layover
in Los Angeles
on his way back from China
he said he was a professor
who had been sent there
to teach the chinese
how to slowly kill
the American economy
the exquisite irony
wasn’t lost on me
because he was positively green
his skin gray
eyes glassy
silvery hair dusted black
from breathing particulate from coal plants
and suicide net surrounded factories
floating in the Beijing air for the past three weeks
his shaking hands
pulled out a stash of respirator masks
still in his pocket
the sight horrified me
it was the first time i realized that all was lost
the human race is near extinction
that inconvenient truths are
merely the tip of a melted iceberg
given the reality of irreversible damage
so
i got up and threw away
the remainder of my give-a-fuck
hearing the girl from ipanema went walking
now boarding boomed
as i traipsed down the ramp to the tin can
not caring as much if it safely landed
full of the knowledge
we’re building cell phone towers
on the corpse of a planet
mama made me stop
why does she love the chipmunks
soft candy squirrels
if
i could have anything
my heart desires
at this moment
it would be
us
sitting back to back
holding sunlit court
on a red fleece blanket
in an arboretum
reading our books in silence
as the birds chatter in the trees
feeling nothing
but each other breathing
and page turning
as the world decides
to raise her skirt to the sun
for one more day
the fact that we ceased
to be able
to care for each other’s hearts
failed to erase the need
to be loved
but we’ve remained loyal in our odd ways
such simple humans
becoming brutal dogs when injured
if only we shared their capacity for forgiveness