collection


i cannot read one poem
i read them all
pausing now and again
my finger in the pages
to mark a meaning i had missed
repeating an especially poignant phrase aloud
or moving a feeling side to side in my mind
not unlike the slow movement
of grandma's cake across my tongue
determined to savor every molecule of sugared cocoa
before i let it slide away
washed with milk fresh from the cows





dreamgriever
 

nebulous details, yes
as in every dream
but one thing crystal— 
from far and long ago
she slipped into the script
as though she had never gone
same laugh
same little flip of her hair
 
i felt her hand on my arm
familiar
warm
 
and i remembered past awaking
feeling no regret
because what i have is more than enough
and simultaneous grief
because it could have been her
 
but that was a path not taken
another life ago
and my only question
in the early quiet morning
is why i would dream her now


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