Friday, January 28, 2011

Weekly Worded

Editing the Pasture

If the fence posts lean any further
the wire will begin to loop
and remind me of her penmanship.

I’m not worried any cows will escape
because they’ve been gone as long as she,
but rather, that eventually her words

will return, providing such
an uncomfortable perch for the birds.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Weekly Worded

In Praise of Insulation

The roof, shed of its snowpack,
gathers the sun’s heat again.

Upstairs under the shingles
the attic warms while

outside the temperature
hasn’t climbed above freezing.

On such a day I could lift
from the mausoleum of dusty boxes

my dimmest memories and hold them
under the glare of a bare bulb

but it has all been so neatly packed away.
To open one box would only

lead to another, and what is the past
if not an accumulation of things we

can not touch wrapped up in the feeling
that we also can not let them go.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Weekly Worded

As the Cold Becomes You

Imagine below zero
behind your skin, ice
etching lace on your smooth
white teeth, blood turning to slush,
arteries pulsing like blue neon tubes
so that no one walking past
can help but stare at the stillness
you are carrying inside. 
The second hand on your wrist
sweeps the watch crystal clear
so the shadow of a miniature angel
hovers in front of your face.
Three sharp jabs a few decibels
higher than a dog whistle
and all the warning you need
tingles at your extremities.
Go deeper, you think, quickly now,
toward a flicker of warmth,
into that narrow hallway
where a bright door swings open.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Weekly Worded

As icicles blossom
along the eaves, paperwhites
unfold on the window sill.

Winter sun draws it both ways:
up and down.