Write me a poem, he said,
About love and the end of time
And nail it to the hickory tree
In the fence row behind grandma’s house,
Where the coyotes won’t see it Continue reading “Rattle Your Clothes”
Tag: nature
A Winter Dream of Spring
Let’s get lost in a ditch
where the hoary bindweed grows,
where the sun is at half-mast
and the wind won’t reach our toes.
Cannot
North enters the story with one sweep
Of the wind’s cold hand. It bruises you
With its knowledge of You can never
Leave. You cannot unbend the steel
You placed so carefully along your spine.
But the wind is more than cannot. Continue reading “Cannot”
Without
Each morning has stopped being the same
Though the dogs don’t pronounce this.
It’s something in the sound of the car
Responding to my touch, something
In the sleep left in my waking bones. Continue reading “Without”
A Tree. A Rock. A Cloud.
“Son, do you know how love should be begun?”*
Moving backward was the name of the first collection
Of poetry I put together. I was fifteen, and I typed
The poems on half-sheets of paper and arranged them
Inside a full piece of typing paper. Thirty-five years Continue reading “A Tree. A Rock. A Cloud.”
Beasts of Burden, Part 218
Dolphins swim through the moon
Into the sky, sliding into stars
That want to be coral, at least
For a time. Mammals like humans
Dream of dolphins, shaping them
From paper clips and doodling them
Into a life beyond ocean and sky. Continue reading “Beasts of Burden, Part 218”
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 