Poems that spilled out while trying to write thirty in thirty.
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She sang in her silence / beneath the whisper of her breath. / Her fingers in song traced / these urned lips, letting tips / leave salty me
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Fingers portray the spells / woven of heart and spirit thread. / Knowing steadfastness of stone, / the joy of light and the richness of ear
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I hold you ~ hands forgotten ~ / the air. Until, a breeze / touches your hair, sneaks past / leaves lingering messages on the cusp / of your ear or your eyes see / branch move, flower bend / grasses trace a path.
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Words strip themselves. / Naked, glistening, black and white ~ / they gather meaning in hearing, / become clothed in another’s heart. / Bor
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I get forever in / small packages. / Breathe deeply, / be present. / These sparks of light / faster than lightening bug’s / mating call, spun gold / tresses, strings of promise, / gold fiber of my world. /
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The waves approach, gulls ~ / swirling helix, wind ~ / a wrap for your shoulders, / my words for hello. / Your heart beat rises through /
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Private spaces, / gated country roads, where / my eye travels / but I am not allowed to follow. / Perhaps it is not to keep / the traveler
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I gather your silences: / rain drops broken on soil, / feather drifting across lips, / fingers still ~ collected in lap. / My hands reach into words, / find crushed herbs, dusty / memories, birds waiting.
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I don’t have time / to argue with the world. / I am too busy / learning to enjoy it. / I don’t have time / to argue with who you are. / I am in love / learning all that you be
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