The bare trees against the sky
Like veins in lungs
The distance is made of fog and mist
And the foreground is rain and branches
The road stretches off
a line towards the horizon
The world is still, too quiet
Rain and birds and trees
Long distance is supposed to be hard
We all know that from media
And yet here we are
Hearts open and missing
Hands cradling phones and computers
Thinking about each other
Commutes and waiting rooms
Processing from afar
The sound of messenger
Makes my heart beat faster
It’s suttle bing or beep
Makes me rush, hoping it’s you
Reaching out across state lines
And wanting to connect fleetingly
Pictures of the face I want to touch
And sound bites of your voice
Video chats on quiet Sunday mornings
You calling when I’m lonely
So I can listen to you both prepare dinner
Cradled to my ear, eyes closed
Picturing myself in your space
Wishing for the subtle smells
Of your hair, skin, being
The gentle weight of your presence
I miss you so much
I miss you too.
I love you.
In the tradition of Throwback Thursday here is a poem from 2003.
The sound of birds
Shatters off the trees
And falls like liquid pebbles
Into concrete pools
In the trash
Floating on the surface
Wind rustles the disbarred cans
But the concrete poll
Remains still and silent
You stir in my arms gently rousing me from sleep
Your shoulders shake, your mouth tight
I can tell immediately that you are not awake
Your lips part, slowly and words slip into the night
I am sorry I’m not good enough
Your sleeping mouth whispers to the world
I look down to your sullen face
And my head begins to whirl
Shhh sweet love, I’m here with you now
You roll into my arms letting out a sigh
My name falls from your lips as you
wake a moment look me in the eye
I hold you as long as I dare
As you drift back to sleep
Slowly rolling away
Before from the bed I creep
In the tradition of throwback Thursday here is a poem from 2006.
Tonight the moon appears
And tomorrow she will again
Waltzing across the stage of the sky
Slowly she spins
Her eyes hidden behind her soft glow
Her body seen from below
She sways softly north to south
In the morning staggers home
But at some point with in these days
Her appearance will be none
She will be at home
Cradling the ones she loves
Her present brightens my hope
As she saunters across the sky
Her light will guide me too
To the home I miss so dearly
And the love I have too.
2/17/2006 12:26:09 PM
In the tradition of Throw Back Thursday, here is a poem from 2005.
The light of the sun
Begins to fade and
the look of sorrow
begin to seep into
all of our eyes. We
know that soon the
street lights will
will start the call
inside for supper”
and it will echo
neighborhood in a
chorus of shouts;
each mother more
urgent than the last.
And we sigh taking
the baseball game
back onto the lawn.
We wait for the cars
to pass; someone
shouts ‘play’ as the
last car leaves and
the basemen and
circle of hose, recycling bin-
get replaced to their
chalked in space.
The pitcher goes
back to his “mound”
and Sammy takes
up the bat. Mom’s
head sticks out the
door, and I see her
from my position of
shortstop and she
nods softly and
opens her mouth.
“Dinner” she calls
and my heart falls, I
say goodbye to the
guys and sadly walk
inside, where the
delights of the night
are, once again lost.
Inspired by Daredevil by Huntress.
The tea arrives on my desk, still warm and sweet
A smile as my door slides closed and a knowing nod
A message with a scan of the relevant mail
With the actions you already took appended
Highlighted in green
The garbage in my office is suddenly empty
While I am talking to an employee
About a compliant
There is a note on my desk with a simple heart
When I through the window in my office
I see your furrowed brow and determined face
Typing away at fixing some problem
Before I know it exists.
Reflected behind us both on the tinted window
The sign on my wall that reads
“Today is the day”
So I stand up and go tell you
How much I appreciate all you do
To keep me running and smiling
To keep us all running and smiling.
I have been posting
a lot of poetry recently. I have still been practicing daily tarot draws. Sometimes those go up over on my Instagram, sometimes those just go into my tarot journal.
I am nearly out of pages in my tarot journal. I am planning on switching on March 21st into a new one. I will prepare a post documenting the setup here if anyone is curious.
Today a co-worker came into my office and the topic of tarot came up. Not having cards handy and wanting to show off The Haiku Oracle* I pulled three cards for her quickly.
We were talking about being at the edge of some life changes and needing to move out of a bad living situation. And how recently it all became clear that that was the next step.
The end of autumn – a season nearly over, into a rough but restful time
a cuckoo crying – turmoil in the present
veiled in morning mist – the early day parting of the cloud of sleep, seeing things fresh and new.
We agreed it was fitting, hugged and got back to work.
I pulled these three for myself:
My current goal is slowing down, doing less, reserving energy more. I am trying to show up for myself the same way I show up for others. All I could think of with this little verse is how seeds sleep waiting for spring in the cold beds of winter gardens.
Things are going to change, I can feel it.
*The Haiku Oracle by Kristen at
Over The Moon Oracle, while you’re there make sure you look at the guidebook in their freebies section! (Here’s their Instagram, you can purchase the deck via Printer’s Studio.)
(A short horror poem)
The air crackles, like a wool blanket
Breath barely visible in the dark
Moon full above light piercing the clouds
The sky feels close
Pressing in among the trees
It’s too quiet
It’s too still
Shapes among the trees
Noiseless move in the shadows
Or are they shadows?
They are not shaped like people
They are not deer
They are too rounded
They’ve too many limbs
We light a second fire
Closer to the treeline
Unsure what else to do.
In honor of throwback Thursday here is a poem from 2003.
The ground twinkles
Like in the midst of morning
In the midst of dawn
In the twilight of the sunrise
Little Imps bent on spreading happiness
Came out of the flowers in the failing night
So they could leave sparkling glitter
Glinting bits of gold
Shards of broken glass so small they are the air
For those who awake anew
Sad in this world and its apparent lack of beauty
Lonely in the huge planet
At home in the mists with the faeries.