Midwest January

We are in the unlovely time of year
When there is only the sooty swabbing of skies
And grimy mounds of snow slump
Against the sandy salted streets
And old men murder their old wives
One smothers her in a sagging stained sofa
Another fills her with a twelve-gauge load
Of double-aught buckshot
And no one notices the shadowy trees
Trembling like Our Lady of Guadalupe
Coruscated in a pre-dawn frozen fog

Evensong

I will cross
This bridge as
I have so many
Times before knowing
I will be changed
In the crossing
Leaving this place
I love again
My life suspended
Once more this
Time by choice
This time
My choice
Knowing I will
Look back and
See it all displayed
Before me the then
The now the maybe
Someday accepting I
Will retrace my steps
Come back to you
As I am meant to
Do I love these
Scars you offer me
Though I am left
Chapped and raw
Still they remind me
Even after they fade
Into my skin you wait
For me you will always
Wait for me to return
And leave you again.

snow rises into trees
horse chuffs for dying grasses
between us a fence

snow rests on river
edges seep to nothingness
slowly the grass dies

sometimes only
when we have fallen
are we free
our final choice
to let go
riding a lonely wind or
clattering like young
girls' roller skates
or plummeting like
cherty leaves after
release we have
no more choices
but wait
to be worn
into nothing
and thereby
become everything
because we chose
to fall

gold leaf offerings
chattering ducks look elsewhere
wishful river sighs

how odd it is
that I am
so wounded
yet so strong
so flawed
yet so beautiful
so broken
yet so resilient
so empty
yet so complete

I have pockets
I never knew existed
longing to be filled
tensile, porous
decorated by gifts
carelessly left behind
unprotected, hopeful
insubstantial as fairies' wings
and just as elusive

you are a snail
urging me to linger
be in the moment
breathe
and I am annoyed

you are a snake
cautioning me to halt
be in the moment
breathe
and I am frightened

you are a seedpod
only a seedpod
heavy with life
supple with possibilities
deliberate as a snail
ancient as a snake

only a seedpod to be
trampled underfoot
kicked and scuffed and
finally flattened
only when you have been
ground to nothing
can new life begin

only a seedpod
and I am lost
in the moment

and I cannot breathe

your boundaries
kept me
arranged me
trembling
at every breath
decorating your barbs
captive as you
withered
upright
yet dead
still I am
pierced

if
I had
not been
wounded
battered
almost senseless
if
I had not
been twisted
almost beyond
enduring
if
I had not been
broken
clinging
how then
could I
bend to
see my scars
shimmering
defiant
how then
could I
not invite you to
linger
watch
wonder
learn
if