Poetry

After my mother died, I decided to gather twine from her frayed skirts and braid them into wreaths. I discovered that each skirt had a story:  The white one she wore when she married my father.  It was a civil wedding, not a church...

I read your nameWritten on a wounded treeBarely standing on the lakeshoreI gaze at the sadness of its former shadowThat remains in the memory of birdsAnd in the spirit of the waterBravely kissing traces of its roots I read your nameWritten on a child’s...

In Harmony with Caravaggio Imagine their disbelief: these two men,perhaps fishermen like most of the twelve,beholding the stranger do the familiarblessing, the breaking of bread.One half-stood in fright, nearlytoppling his chair, breath taken away. What would you have doneif you were there, ensconced in the...

Stones There is an old man.Waking, his heart beats fast, someone’s running after someone.He can’t remember his dreams these days.He fixes himself for the 25,719th morning.Well, he tries as much as he could.He locks the steel gate of his daughter’s house.He goes to the...

A fast-clicking cameraCaptures the momentWhen a loaded balloon breaks,The water inside itReasonably in the shapeOf a glass Earth, as wellBefore it quickly fallsApart, leaking away,Flopping, as it were,Into a shapeless puddle. We who have been moldedBy tenderness before the denial,The fevered seasonOf turning awayTo...

Zero Hour Doc Hours from here My man went from door to door Offering our pigs and chickens at half the price For any moving vehicle that could bring me to you That, we don’t have, the farmers saidbut blood we can giveOn trucks loaded with cane;On top of...