a woman in a hood
to let the hood down
let it out
breathe deeply
and love myself
those around me
my close and extended family
and also those I do not know

to oscillate in the wind
landing on a leaf
feeling that tomorrow may
or may not happen
but my shining self is in me
not that part that needs to say… to know
the part that knows how to laugh
that can spin on the curve of a hip
and write a story in the sand
in the eyes of a child
or a toothless grin

on what I am drawn to
writing, cooking, painting, the whole lot
and then realizing the important thing
is to be honest, to be true

to be able to look myself in in the mirror
and know I’ve tried
hard but also known how to let go
to flow with the tide and sing in the moonlight

selah, I am a ladle of sweet water
a woman, a girl
I may never be a mother
yet I hold this life
between my fingers
between my thighs
in my head
along my feet
sweet is the smell of dawn
long is the velvet night
I sigh in the silence
for more to come


A knot in the thread

A knot in the thread
Woven tightly around my finger
Your name lost in the gale of wind
Howling in my ears
The crevices of my body
Grains of sand
Blue and yellow
A trickle meshing
Green in the hourglass
They tied a knot
As I untangle my hair
Auburn in the sunset

Strands of emotions
Caught between gut and logic
Drifting away in a waning
And waxing coagulation
Of blood cells

The truth gurgles
And spouts its primal baby names
Jealousy, envy abandonment
Oh, big sounding words
Psychology in motion

The rocking horse jolts and struts
Forward and back
Within each others arms
We whisper—
A word in my ear
Soft and tepid in the morning
Like cotton candy at the fair
Pink and gauze-like
And so sugary you worry it’ll hurt
Your stomach

Lumps of undigested matter
Baggage for the homeless
How to give it away in
One clean gesture
Be rid of it

And yet that is an impossible request
To so dispose of this human fiber
Of toil and torture
That also yields such bliss and happiness

Oh but to grope
For the middle ground
In even-keeled, equanimous strides
Poised for the calling
And yet the surface is weighty
The work rewarding

When fingered nimbly
Silk, cotton, hemp, linen, wool
Raw, even artificial
Knots coming undone
And then sometimes
Braided quietly and peacefully