for Roxann on her birthday
“Open you mouth,”
She said to sister Kelly,
Sitting in the high chair,
Smelling those mashed turnips,
Knowing none of that
Was getting in. Continue reading “When We Were Young”
Tag: writing
The Thing About Chairs
I love simple wooden chairs. I love how they look against a wood floor. On a porch. Stacked up against a wall. Hanging on a wall (I have an old dark-stained one that I use as a towel rack on the bathroom wall.) I think the artwork at the Oklahoma memorial to the bombing victims, those rows of chairs, is sublime. I wrote a manuscript once about a girl preoccupied with painting landscapes that always had a chair in them. Continue reading “The Thing About Chairs”
Dancers at the Caravan Cattle Co., Tulsa OK
Both are barely 5’6, though his hat
Adds 6 inches to his height. They are slender,
His buckle like a giant pull tab
On a paper doll, her hair the color of soured milk.
They dance effortlessly, slowly with short steps,
Without improvisation or flourish. Continue reading “Dancers at the Caravan Cattle Co., Tulsa OK”
September Pool
I thought about you while I was in the pool,
Early September heat stiff above the water,
As present as winter when the ice shimmies
In the pool cover, cracking green, eating leaves. Continue reading “September Pool”
Honey, Mead & Poetry Day!
Poets.org put us on its site. Looking forward to a fun day . . . mead, honey, snacks, song, swimming, talking . . . and all wrapped around by poetry. We need yours . . . poetry that is. Yee haw!
DETAILS:
Sea Lesson #3
The downed pines
Heavy and mute
In their destruction
Are the path now,
No stretch of sand,
No line of seaweed
Even. Continue reading “Sea Lesson #3”
Rural Oklahoma Museum of Poetry 