WATERMARK

a poet’s notebook

Established 02004

February 2004

February 3, 2004

consider

distance proximity the shadow cast by snow falling the slow flow of glass its response to gravity the leaf turns to the sun Continue reading

Poems

poem, poetry
February 2, 2004

chickadees

The garden is full of chickadees this morning, and snow. Not a single sparrow. Continue reading

Critters, Noticed

chickadee, snow, sparrow
February 2, 2004

Coming to Grief

I walk with you again, this crowded gravel path. We pass beneath dying elms, fire maples, thick oaks. Soon bats will rise up, above the trees. My hair clings to my skull in the rain. I hear the river moving stones in its bed. The rain stops. Now, spots of sun, the steady dripping from… Continue reading

Poems

grief, poem, poetry
February 1, 2004

Horses

My aunt, "Sis", took this picture at her ranch. I love this picture. Continue reading

Critters

horse, photograph
February 1, 2004

the closing

circles caused by changing parallels, a different balance, in light-skinned women, a range between (her pelvis must reach) an idea of round lawn. walk beneath allowed lilacs, glans of penis, bulb of vestibule (four columnar trees.) intricate … Continue reading

Found/Collage, Poems

collage poem, found poem, poem, poetry

Ancestral (Artificial )Intelligence

I do not use AI to write. For me, writing is how I think, and I prefer to do it myself. If/when I post anything here that I suspect or know to be AI generated, I will tell you.

I have changed this from Artificial to Ancestral, after Abi Awomosu @ Substack. This medium was made with human history, human thought. All of it, bright and dark. It is ancestral.

Poems

Please do not assume that I am the speaker/ subject of my poems.

In these times of creative nonfiction and fictionalized memoirs, I think of the poem itself as true fiction: it is most likely not factual, but it must be true.

It is likely to be — it is best if it is — a truth I did not know before I wrote, and may not understand even then.

A poem is my way of discovering (dis-covering) what I feel; sometimes, what I think — but it is not necessarily biographical.

February 2004

consider

chickadees

Coming to Grief

Horses

the closing