He kicked me in his sleep,
But when he woke up,
He said he was kicking a bad guy
Who was trying to get me.
I am always being chased
By bad guys in his dreams,
And he is always saving me. Continue reading
What do you notice in winter stillness?
Does the stillness allow you to be still,
Also? Or does it make you want to move
In ways that keep you from noticing?
The honeysuckle vines are disappearing
From the fence rows, the wild rose bushes
Rooted out like kudzu by backhoes
Trained to pasture and emptiness. Continue reading
I am looking at you through a window
I work to keep open, through the world
At 50, and I’m seeing a landscape
I had not anticipated, a life waving
In this still image from the abandoned garage Continue reading
Stillness at the depths and movement
Above before the change, the contact
That transforms element, strips you
Of the life you have been, willing or not,
Which is not the question. Here,
In the icy crucible, you have no choice Continue reading
I have lain in the exquisite pleasure
Of a strong, loving man’s arms,
And I have slept where the creek
Flows in the summer evening,
And made my bed in the breeze
Of a fall day near the meadow’s edge, Continue reading
There are many reasons you should visit the Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry. I will start by listing 10.
- You can make poetry from word blocks. Remember, if you call it a poem, it is a poem.
- You can play the symbol game, which includes a bottle of gin. (Sorry, it’s empty.)
- You can hide in the secret corner and read other people’s secret scribblings. Continue reading