I’m here to tell you that building a poem with 29 other poets has shivered my timbers and set my castle alight. Read down, and you will see my line, bold and italicized, emerge like a flying monkey from the otherwise well-mannered unfolding. I think it may be carrying a torch. Or is that my hair on fire? (Terror, you cannot defeat me.)
I’m fidget, friction, ragged edges—
I sprout stories that frazzle-dazzle, Continue reading
Crocuses raise cheery salutes,
opening orange invitations to
invite us to Come One, Come All,
to spring’s circus in the meadow. Continue reading
Goodbye, Winter.
Ciao, deep snow.
Time to dig out
my pink maillot. Continue reading
I step out of my writing cave
into a day of misty rain, blinking.
A squirrel is digging
a hole in the dark soil. Continue reading
Snow is old hat.
We’re ready for a new topper,
a cold stopper: Continue reading
If I were a fish,
I’d live in a coral tower.
If I were a bird, I’d nest
above a cactus flower. Continue reading
As night flees down dark paths
from the early light,
dreams scatter into
deadening fog.
The breathing air carries stories
of foreign pain
and domestic infighting
that will scream from our
headlines by noon. Bar the door. Continue reading
Trees in bud burst
open, unrehearsed,
wild mint-lemon taste. Continue reading
Snow fish,
flow fish,
flying toward spring. Continue reading
Brother new, sister blue, I miss you.
Both lost at age four. Pain is evermore. Continue reading
Gathering in the sky
are low, heavy mists:
snow clouds shaped
by Zeus and Thor. Continue reading
