grief
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Evasion
On my morning walk, a young couple asks me where is ***? and I point and hear myself say y’ur look’n attit — and who would guess that this fat, slow woman, with her ungroomed dogs and wild hair, comes home to write elegant poems? I have been feeling — evasive — (this is not… Continue reading
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Sunset on the Sangre de Cristo Mountainsfor Judd Polivka 1940-1992
In afternoon, sun becomes more precious, spare near evening, as it falls toward that spot, there on the mountain. That far spot, where trees thin and shale shows through. You can see the shape of the world there at the curving edge of sky. In the last moment sagebrush burns red. Then stars. Pale and… Continue reading
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Richard and Judd
Today, at the market, a middle-aged couple, squeezing tomatoes. They remind me of you, one gaunt, grey, with sharp cheekbones; the other large and reddish. I remember you exiting the plane at the Missoula airport, both in huge fur coats, New York queers and proud of it. Christmas, and you two glittered and grinned brighter… Continue reading
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Small Losses
Rainbow Wonder January 01999 – May 02004 quiet Sunday morning the empty birdcage Continue reading
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March ThawJuneau, Alaska
The first bear came down from the mountain today. Porcupines graze by the trail. The air tastes of the forest trying to bloom. Icicles melt, quick percussive drip off the eaves. On the high New Mexico desert, your ashes and bits of bone rest pale in the red dirt. I bring home hothouse daisies, tulips,… Continue reading
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