poetry in process

Bones on the brain

The whole house is sleeping
I am sleepy too
but sleep felt like a waste of precious time
so I am here
Glassey eyed,
sketching skulls.

We cut through bones
Yesterday evening in the dark
On the front porch.
He held the pruners
And I held the baby
While her and I
Watched his strength
Cut through

Now I have bones on the brain.

I think both
of their strength
and fragility

Remembering how easily
my own have broken

The other day a woman showed me how
The inside of a human skull
Has a pattern on it that looks just like
A leaf pressed into silver

In the crisp air and quiet
Of an empty room in the early morning
It seems quite natural,
That each should be
inside the other.

in the works

IMG_3784

These babies are ready to be cast in sterling silver. I put them in plaster on Saturday, they will cook in the kiln for a 24 hour burn out on Tuesday and be ready to cast Wednesday evening. Cant wait!

in procress – ebb and flow

Ebb and flow

Remember there is
beauty in roundness
and bounty

in a body
that has been indulged,
that has produced life.

The forest does not fast
the ocean would not turn away
a child who is hungry

there is space enough and all are welcome.

I am a record keeper,
a memory keeper
with no memory.

So I try to record
in ink and silver
and hunks of bone

But chances of success
are slim.

So we mend what we can
and let go of what we can’t

and for God’s sake stop buying
to try to fill the void.

I dream
but cling so tightly
to what’s real, always
so afraid to lose my
grip.

I believe in plenty
but I am not good
at sharing.

I crave stillness
but I am not still.

I am the ebb and the flow.

I breathe deep
and teach my daughter
to do the same.

Her frustration
is hard for me to bear,
but I bear it.

I change
though I constantly
resist changing.

I do not wait to use what is cherished
I do not wait
I dive in

I am the optimist
who will not die,
who cannot sleep.

I want to be light
But the heaviness
Remains.

The need to soften
is a pattern
repeated a
million times
in my weaving.