the hand of winter stretched out
his grey gloves and poured snow
out of his pitcher it fell upon the
world in cold numbing waves it
washed away all the colors of fall —
it beat back my favorite lilies into
the hand of white dust like people
are prone to beat one another into
the dust for a sense of self worth. [...]
I meet a young couple in the canyon. A dog in their company tells me more about them than they guess. I see a piñon pine tree alight with fall sunshine. As I exit the canyon, I discover a prying eye. This is another long and the last installment in this series but it isn’t [...]
In which I make my way into Crossfire Canyon and meet a wondrous bird. I muse upon the experience of eye contact with other species, referencing N. Scott Momaday and Martin Buber. I see the light, loose and free in the canyon–it’s beautiful. Part one here, part two here, part three here.
As I worked [...]
It’s here I pause with each December, where
the snow-trimmed walls of timeworn brick align
beneath the windowsill and winter’s bare
limbs bend beneath a delicate and fine
glossing of frost. It’s here I garner all
my thoughts of months gone past, beside the sheers
and yellow paisley chair. A woolen shawl,
a pearl and knit of smiles and raveled tears,
is wrapped [...]
How ugly you all are,
An all-over ugly!
Iris bulbs unearthed and scythed
Of top leaves,
I lay your twisted, tuberous
Bodies across a gutted paper sack
And take a moment to grimace
At your grotesquery.
Dirt clings to your stringy reaching roots.
Not even warm water and bleach
Can pretty the rough hide of your skin.
Poor horrid hags!
But wait—don’t droop,
Shrivel dry in shame.
For I [...]
After the electrical storm
rattles the windows
and spikes the sky ocher
and I go out in the dark
to douse the garden hose
superfluously watering the roses
a shock
to be blinded
by moon
full in the face
in the closed corridor
at the side of my house
and it is clear to me
like cool white fire
the you I know
still glows
in dark somewhere
______________________________________________________________________
To read Paul Swenson’s [...]
Make
like a tree* and
grow, bloom and bear fruit,
give shade, give shelter, sow seed,
weather storms, dig deep,
breathe deeper.
Be useful
in your
death:
frame
well,
burn
bright,
enrich
the soil,
and,
mulch
made,
resurrect
a tree.
____________________________________________________________________________
*This is, of course, a variation on the common adage to “make like a tree and branch out,” and the less common adage, used primarily among canines (the dogs, not the teeth), “make like a [...]
The 7 o’ clock was hot again, hotter than any 7 o’ clock.
A drop of sweat travelling down my cheek
In search of destination stopped suddenly
And I rubbed it off, removing its existence.
I went up for a glass of glucose to see
Ants caving in there;
The glass had one inch water with dead ants floating—
Perhaps they have [...]
Like most folks, my husband, kids, and I greet spring’s arrival with relief. The relaxing of winter’s grip, the first crack of color between sepals clutching flower buds, the sun’s liberating warmth all lighten the load my family balances gingerly as we carry it through winter’s dimly-lit cellars. But as daylight’s gold, pink or orange [...]
If you look at WIZ’s short blogroll, you’ll see I added a link to a new site: Our Mother’s Keeper, “a LDS group blog dedicated to environmentalism, ecofeminsim and environmental justice issues that result from the changes the planet is currently undergoing.” To read more about Our Mother’s Keeper, click here.
Sorry it took so long [...]