Poetry

how hot it is on this bright summer day with crickets jumping in the grass ...

Beyond eager to bear witness to the miracle of compounding ...

As though Eve herself, in all her intricate glory electrified once again the rib ...

I prayed for a poem. A worthy poem was expected. I was unworthy, unstill of spirit.

Take the globe by her imagined corners & stretch her flat like evening against the sky ...

Once, before children, my wife and I took a nest of fledglings to a woman ...

You’re there, but you’re not. You glance behind every so often, to those words you said as a kid.

Re-enter the world, a world where, no matter how it first happened, the spark of your conception, too, was Spirit ...

The doctor's office grants no place beyond the floor's gray lines to form and color ...