I know his face, I know his frown, the man who lives a few roads down. His walk didn’t change, though he grew older; his bent back and hunched shoulders.
The Man Who Lives a Few Roads Down
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Poems
Fearful Wonders
I am fearfully made in this garden of wonders where sun dapples down upon bench and bed, upon creeper and crocus, with shoots lancing quickly up, defiant through dampened earth.
If You Say I’m Your Daughter
If You say I’m Your daughter, why do I so utterly defenseless seem to be against all storms afire in the sky, against all hurricanes that stir the sea?
Pain Well
That sunny day I stepped upon a shell, its bitter clam’s edge digging in my sole. I remembered why we pain, remembered well. So I dug in deeper, dug deeper still, my foot on the shard in the fleeting hole, that sunny day I stepped upon the shell.
Plea to a Cold World
How like the mountain, confident, the world around me stands, defiant hands upon hips, lips issuing demands. Am I the only shattered soul who’s sometimes lost her way?
Sketches
Sometimes I look into my drawer of old sketches, take one out, and admire the dark lines and etches. Memories are recalled, all unique and precious.
Miracles
Miracles are quiet, great as the blades of mountains that rise and score the clouds, rending greater gashes and letting light inside a world that’s gone too loud.
Question Marks
It’s interesting, isn’t it? How teachers often tell us that any question is a bright question, and a good question’s only job is to be asked. But kindergarten was sixteen years ago, and my teachers don’t say this anymore. We stopped talking about questions a long time ago.
I Took a Walk Among the Forest Pines
I took a walk among the forest pines to be alone, away from all mankind, to listen to the sound of nothingness, and leave my doubts and worries far behind. As I wandered beneath a maple maid, I breathed into my lungs the virgin air, unspoiled as of yet, and ripe with scents of spicy hemlock with a piney flair.
Progress
I don’t remember living without this doubt. Confidence was suspicious, like the shadows of dark streets that I never dared wander. Certainty was the friend I watched others get to know, wondering if she would happen to notice me by accident. I don’t remember living without walls around my bedroom and thoughts.
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