Trace

these same tired eyes miss, every time
same, tired corners
of a smile
lose the red of moment and hurry through the hot shower to rinse the corners clean
and soft, turned in, not down or up, pruned from too much wet like toes and fingers after a bath
in the mirror she paints up-turned corners on her eyes.
mascara makes me feel more awake, she says, filling her corners with red.

daily bread

days you wake up with the song from the night before still singing in your head,
of its own accord
like the bell in the church tower on south street - you imagine the rough scotland winds, blowing in from the firth - stopping to ring the bell like school children running up to the teachers desk and writing wrongs on the chalkboard before the class starts - the firth of forth blows winds to the church bell and sneaks in the tower, ringing chime-ringing on the 17th minute of the hour and only you know why
the church bells don't ring on time.

Pleiades Sister

Last night I dreamt the Pleaides fell
from the sky, melting off and landing in the ice and snow pockets at the end of the earth
It was my task - my goal - to find just one, just one Pleiades sister and bring her back.
When I found her, tiny golden glowing orb, in a nest of powder snow on the hard frozen ocean - she had landed near her sisters but apart. Smaller than the rest - stronger than the rest - potent.
The star was no bigger than a mustard seed, wrapped in swaddling clothes of radiant and faintly pulsing golden white light   - she rested in my palm, hovering just above my skin, the energy of her light reversing her gravity.
I carried the Suspended with soft steps.

sea around the edges

sea around the edges

the sea's foam fingers
cling - dig initials into the sand - linger
at first glance the touch is shaped into the curl of desperation
the tension formed around the edges building up and spalshing over
but on second and after - more a bittersweet relinquishing
the ocean holds its breath for as long as it can, waiting for the black to crawl across its vision
and then it lets it go - rushing over the sands, surrounding each grain with its watery breath,
only to sweep its own feet out from under

even the ocean gives of itself
wave after wave rips the tide into balance

Horse Forest

brookfield forest 10/19/10

the horses emerged from the forest as if this was where they belonged, wandering the dirt roads among the red pines and fallen leaves. they saw us seeing them, and at first paid no attention, until they noticed us walking down the road towards them, two strangers to their forest, approaching with cautious but eager steps. they lifted their heads and set themselves in one line spanning the road's width, the leader a step beyond the others. they stood their, heads all raised and pointed towards us as we walked, and waited for us to come. it was an intimidating front, but they broke it soon enough, following their leader as he made the move to meet us halfway. Four horses in a row, spirits of the forest moving toward us on the unnamed road. When we finally came to each other, the lead stallion and his friend approached without any hesitation, letting mike hold out his hand in greeting and nudging it in acceptance, allowing mike to stroke his nose and step closer. the lighter, maple colored one, stepped to me while mike was with the leader, eager to see if i had any treats or snacks in my outstretched hand. when he saw that i didn't he let me pet his nose, too, but not without some playful pushing away of my rejected, found-empty hands. after a few minutes i moved to greet the leader, and mike the maple - the dappled gray stood to the side, skeptical, and the smaller, chestnut-colored one hung back, behind its two older mentors. the leader accepted me just as quickly as the maple, and even knelt his head to my level so we could look eye to eye. after bonding for a minute or two i turned my attention to the dappled gray - but he was hesitant. he seemed wary of us, the two strangers - not the people he belonged to and not people he wished to claim as his own. i held out my hand and he came close enough to nudge it, but when i reached out to stroke him he pulled away. the chestnut leader saw the tension and stepped back from me to nudge the gray and ease his worries. "it's alright, they're alright," he seemed to say. the gray still made no move closer or showed signs of affection, but at least wasn't hostile, trusting his leaders reassurance of our good intentions. i looked to my left and saw that the maple had become even more playful with mike - he was especially curious about mike's backpack, obviously hiding something edible and tasty. but when it became clear that the backpack was not going to be opened for him, he was happy to push mike around and see how mike would respond. he bent down to sniff mike's toes, and then in lifting his head pushed mike off-balance so he had to step back to catch himself, laughing. apparently happy with our meeting, the horses went on their way then, walking past us down the road, only stopping to investigate our car - another curious gray stranger - another horse? - imposing on their forest. we followed a ways behind and watched as they stood next to it, their heads a whole foot taller than the SUV. Then they turned left and we turned right, looking back to watch them wander to wherever they came from, or wherever they were going.

soundtrack
u2 - sunday bloody sunday, where the streets have no name, in the name of love, with or without you, i still haven't found what i'm looking for (gospel)
nina simone - how it feels to be free, sinnerman
s&g - homeward bound, bridge over troubled water