perches on the streetlight pole/ looking down and mocking me/ attached to the ground as I am

In the dark dawn these birdcalls/ mixed together in the same tangle// I have known since I have known

I lay on the soft ground/ the grass tickling my bare legs/ And push my toes into the soil/ Planting

The sun arose afresh from a sound sleep/ and the sleepy road/ was awoken by the paced commuters

I think I’ll sit awhile beside a warming fire which,/ perhaps, might be a figment of my addled brain

i think I have outgrown you/ like a too-tight sweater/ that constricts across the chest/ and scratches

snowflakes float and swirl// silence/ except for howling of the wind// as far as the eye can see/ whiteness

I never was/ and never will be/ that bride posing/ by the lake, luminous/ in her many-petaled

I was born/ on December 23, 1985// forty-one minutes// past midnight/ in Santa Teresa// Hospital off

I sprint through the station alone/ racing towards the Morning Line train/ while people scatter

Pure joy for a dog to/ drink wet footprints/ from the surface of a/ black sun.

i’m proud to call you my mom/ five years old and i’m crying on the first day of school,/ tears sliding

Unimaginable/ Wanting to be/ Seen, we practice/ Dance, exorting/ Miracles, many/ Mindful, some

I/ piercing yellow eye/ prehistoric call/ macabre melody/ II/ drink soft wonderment/ the last of the

In a fold in the hills lies/ my home, tugged awake/ at dawn by slender/ twists of fog./ They slip through

I learned a glyph/ to speak to your/ dry canopic heart// (and what/ we whisper/ must remain sealed)

What/ importance/ am/ I// but/ to/ be/ your/ sunshine,/ your/ rainbow// on/ a/ cloudy

You said you’d always stay/ but I remember you packing up and and leaving/ We promised we’d

Once we sat by the fire/ and chased the ashes/ with our eyes/ pretended we were fireflies

This black sky scattered/ with bright stars,// ink-dark carpet glittering/ with unstrung pearls