WATERMARK

a poet’s notebook

Established 02004

February

March 9, 2004

February

There is light now in the mornings. I wake away from my dreams. It is snowing. Trees stand straight, colorless against the white sky. I cannot seem to begin. Snow fills the corners of my house. Silent. Glistening. Ice on the mirrors. I have been in winter forever. I cannot see your face. Frost blurs… Continue reading

Poems

February, poem, poetry, winter
February 29, 2004

March Sonnet (1991)

The full moon glides across winter’s night as February now concedes to March, the month between the seasons, fickle skies that now are mellow, now are cold and harsh. The crocus tentatively tests the air that taunts with whispered hints of summer warmth; the daffodils, the tulips, debonair, all toss their yellow heads with wanton… Continue reading

Poems

February, march, poem, poetry, sonnet, spring, winter
February 18, 2004

February

There is light now in the mornings. I wake away from my dreams. It is snowing. Trees stand straight, colorless against the white sky. I cannot seem to begin. Snow fills the corners of my house. Silent. Glistening. Ice on the mirrors. I have been in winter forever. I cannot see your face. Frost blurs… Continue reading

Poems

February, poem, poetry, watermark

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

February

March Sonnet (1991)

February