just ask jackrabbit

just ask jackrabbit somewhere in a photo box lives the real truth of this town before ghosts, before cars lined in rows became headstones in a graveyard rusting, dusty sunken into dirt even before the well was empty town hall graffitied, boarded up, condemned. somewhere there is proof but coyotes run rampant a Great Horned... Continue Reading →

Advertisements

Little Cabin Rabby-Tack

Little Cabin Rabby-Tack Little brother freckle-face what do you see? Lying on your stomach, reaching into sea. Driftwood fishing line discarded at your feet, squinty-eyed to sun glare cockabully. Little sister scruffy-hair what do you see? Knees deep in low-tide pools, singing happily. Gumboots full of water Feet and hands in glee, sun-kissed glow of... Continue Reading →

What I’m Not Saying

What I’m Not Saying that pearls are my birthstone, Am I limited by birth? Begin each day with a breath say goodbye to yesterday like the sun’s light on dew, a droplet rendered dry What I’m not saying is, I’m blind I’m blinded by love, the removal of yours What I’m not saying is laughter... Continue Reading →

Daughter

Daughter "Where's your favourite place on earth?" my daughter asks. “It’s a simple question Mum.” And it is. But the choosing of just one place worries me. It renders the places left out, not good enough. Like that house I lived in for a month when I was eight years old. The place that my... Continue Reading →

Everything Gets Their Turn

Everything Gets Their Turn butterfly born of darkness seek light shift about the straight-jacket of birth a pressure on beauty awake asleep awake forgets caterpillar chrysalis crickets of the field conduct blade of grass as Strings orchestrate stridulations sound a twilight song earth's axis tilts toward summer to her small creatures giving them time too

upon a parent’s dying

upon a parent's dying knowing nobody in grief not yourself you wash your father's feet while east and west collide in kindness and palms are grace and you water and you wash your mother's feet of earth and dust laugh into pails of gladness as tears come knowing them now

The African Queen ~ for Mum

The African Queen ~ for Mum In recalling your love for technicolor love, I believe you be a Rose a scented heart a thorn in hand just enough sharp just enough sweet that wretched machine threatened to ruin the VHS (the older version of your love) 'just blow gently on the ribbon, it'll work again,... Continue Reading →

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑