S(fear)
fear suppressed
in the orb
of a head
the jawline of parentheses
clenched
farcical face
lips sideways
like closed-up petals
before a nocturnal bloom
the S a tissue-tether’d tongue
a farce of a forest
in that growth
is prohibited
cue the emotional synth
music with no
additional text
I suddenly like
a silent song
Ferns lean over the bank, waving at
water striders flitting on the deepest pool,
where ripples steady to nothing more
than a glare of sun on the surface.
I squat at the edge, looking upstream
watching the braided current weave
against chiseled rocks pouring
layers over layers in a steady rhythm
toward me, toward the water striders,
its gentle churning mixing with
birdsong and breeze and occasional
rolling thunder from the distance.
A pause amid chaos, peace before
the torrent we all know is coming.
No need to water the garden today.
The hot sticky humid afternoon
collected itself into bulbous white
cumulus clouds surrounding us with their
impending saturation of cooling droplets.
I can almost hear the sound of my tomatoes,
beans and squash, drinking in the sustenance.
KW
6/6/2022
Little Brown Dog snug on a Christmas blanket.
15 year old writer tapping away on a computer.
Subtle snores exit Little Brown Dog’s nose.
Sudden movement and glassy hazel eyes open.
A glare in the writer’s direction and
Little Brown Dog closes her eyes.
No bigger than the writer’s computer,
no smaller than a piece of naan.
Little Brown Dog snoozes away,
any dreams are left for herself.
in the not hearing
Wind or Waze
in the not seeing
cloud or snowcapped
mountain in the not
knowing a ride
on the pelican’s back
or following its shadow
on the sand embracing
the old woman
The moon got lost last night
But the thick black knew where we lived
Sending fingers of rain tapping windows
Like children hounding Halloween candy
More Snickers
We want Skittles
Forget those raisins and mealy apples
Sleep became a restless thing with thorns
Snuffling around our pillows
Flipping side to side like a snagged fish
The damp a weighted breath
Dawn snuck in when we weren’t looking
Crept over the horizon like a thief
Another birthday
A sliver of god
(For a student whose mother passed)
Life is full of ups and downs but
those who love you will always be proud
To share your love and to share it loud.
Keep your head up and move around
There’s much more in life to be found ,
and you’re just now getting your feet on the ground.
Something breaches
the water, curls out
of that world of silt
and scales, and slinks back
just as fast into the mud
with guppies in its mouth
but also moss on its lips
and a belly of scum,
clearing a bit of the surface
for sunlight, oxygen,
small frogs, mallard feet.
Something prehistoric
and alien, skin the color
of death, slick and immense
and dorsal-finned
like a children’s story,
but indifferent to the air,
merely a current of flesh,
a breeze of persistence,
a balanced beast
that breathes its own water,
a kind of god you can see.
