Posts
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eclipse
the moon's silvery-gray hair
falls in shadows across her face
her pupils waxing and waning
straining
to catch a glimpse of her girl,
her beauty, her sunshine
her pale lips remembering cinnamon warmth
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April Snows
it is april 4
the official beginning of spring is long past us
vermont was ready for spring before that,
our grayish-green sunlit adirondacks forcing the clouds
to hold in their snow and rain and part
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the snow is falling
the snow is falling
thick
too slow and yet too fast
everything is muffled
sound limited to the soft thumps of trees shaking the snow from their bare arms
i have somehow sunk to my knees
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jump
the cliff turned into sky
and the clouds to dreams
whose silken threads touched me
and i
f
e
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In Her Shoe There Hides a Knife
Note: This is an excerpt of a play I may or may not write to the fullest. It's just to get a grasp of what the play would look like, so you might see more of it. Or you might not. Enjoy anyway!
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silence
silence
all except for the soft hiss of snowflakes
rushing into my jacket sleeves
as if they expect to slide right through
and out the other side.
silence
so heavy i'm brought to my knees,
Loves
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Good news
I don't want the cold hallways,
their chill seeping underneath
my thin regulation gown and settling in my bones.
I don't want the nurses,
with their tight, sympathetic smiles
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February 21st
I remember she smelled like cheap canned beer and Ajax dish soap;
Like that industrial elevator onto McClure 4, with the rainbow carpet walls sticking to its skeleton. -
Don't Be Afraid
Child, your future is best left unspoiled, so I may be too vague, or not vague enough. Don’t be afraid of the contents within this letter . . .
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An Ode to Dogs
A long, slim ball of English cream
curls up against the velvety crimson stairs,
like an entity of white against maroon.
His ears perk up as I amble closer,
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When In Bloom
The dogwood blooms later
this year and marks the tardy rebirth
of the earth, our home, beautifying
after a dreadful winter purge. -
Travel
I long to travel:
Wanderlust tugs at my soul.Maine screams my name,
The ocean calls for its siren far away.Salem calls me,
Whispering tales of young girls lost to time.