Poetry

No snow today, no two below. No diapers waiting in the pail for bleach. No pail. No wooden house above the two-lane road, no Freewill Baptist Church next door, no cemetery on the point above our bedroom window. No jewelweed, no damp dirt road rising in shade, no poison ivy,…

Say you are not watching people take off their shoes, put their belongings on  a conveyer, empty their pockets of change. Say you are wearing  an extravagant silk scarf, oversized sunglasses, a brilliant smile. No searches stand between you and the silver jet warming its engines at the gate. But…

Everything rusts, warps, settles off-center askew. I ask you, Is this what I meant to make of myself? Except what’s entered the cracks in the smooth façade of my intent is bright—unforeseen as moonlight’s body in the radiant dark. Rusted solid, I am stuck in spots I had set all…

Waiting for the doctor for a room the latest test results for the iv nurse to finally thread the catheter into the vein so the test can start for the valet to find and bring your car for today’s exam to say you’re doing alright at least for your age…

I told them On and on they hollered In prayer Their palms pressed  Oil to my forehead      I’ll fly away oh glory      I’ll fly away in the morning. . .  They faked my healing I cannot account for what evil May enter.