spring rising

you write your memories
into the spring
you write your heart
into all of the lovely things
flowers, water ripples,

wild in the ice

ill never understand the world,
how he chooses to wear
cloaks and scarves and sweaters
and stockings throughout

warm colors

the sun steps, feet
pressing into
green foliage, washing
her limbs in the blue and
ivory seas – the earth

summer sun

afternoon heat splashes
across parking lots,
making the air
wiggle and squirm –

carefully written

i imagine our Gods
write and send
letters, notes, papers, and art
out into the universe

threads & thoughts

flying like kites
touching our noses
softly against clouds
heart and mind
worn on a single

nine lives of fog

fog peered over the fence
shyly curling fingers around
cold tree knuckles, warming
their hands chilled by

the falls

i often envy cherry blossoms and clouds
because when i slip, my fall hits hard
i scrape my hands, bruise my knees –
yet when i stand under cherry blossom trees
as a breeze kicks up its heels, all i feel

growing pains of the rain

if water were beings who
lived with hope, breathed with
lungs, walked with a pulse
as we do, then maybe when they were born
they were the golden dew – and then the Sun

in the belly of Morning

sometimes my dreams arrest me
holding me by the wrists deep in the
belly of the Morning, i use her ribs as
rungs to climb out – i hear the wind sleeping

hush chills

the leaves twist their fingers
telling the wind to hush
as it prattles on, rushing across
the necks of rivers, slithering up
the spines of bridges, biting