night breeze

I feel the breeze through
the bedroom window
on a summer night
as I sit with my baby
at my breast,

it’s the end of summer
and finally the coyotes
have returned.

their song comes through
the open window and in the
odd hours of the early morning
they keep me company
in the quiet and the dark.

The cool comes on quickly and
autumn makes herself known
as the warmth of the day
arrives later and later.

Daylight makes lessons learned
in the dark harder to remember.

There is a feeling of relief
and then dismay
when I realize that
I am still myself,
despite the drastic
changes to my

Stretch marks,
like any other scar,
are a reminder
of where I’ve been
a record on my body
of each destination
and crash.
A mind may forget
but the body remembers.

It is written on my bones
and this body will find a way.

In a time of crisis
I strain to remember
what coyote taught me
about the lighthearted
nature of the universe
I say it over and over again
in my head, hoping repetition
will make it stick.

Her mouth curves into a wide grin
around my nipple and
again I am in love.





Published on Zoomoozophone Review

The Robber

I thought apathy was
the worst thing you
could do to me, so
of course it was what
you did, while ignorance
was the worst I could do
to you – and love –
so I did them both

I became translucent,
reaching for something
true but unable to grasp it.

Quietly I made it through.

Even occasionally
was sometimes
too much for me
to bear.

That last time you rushed
in too quickly, like you had
other things on your mind
and I was an afterthought.
Just another check mark on
your list of things to do.

At first there had been such
an urgency, a need, and
you couldn’t wait any longer.

But not that day, in your
new house full of unopened
gifts in pretty paper.

That day we both wished
we were somewhere else.

In truth, even before
we wished for an escape.
That night in the dark and
the open air, sounds of the
lake in our ears, your mouth
on mine, your arms pulling
me more and more into you
as you leaned over me and
we got closer and closer
to the ground.

New Years poem

Late at night on a roof
surrounded by smoke
and effigies burning
in every direction
I see the furniture
shop across the street
is full of people

I love you like
the sun and moon
stars and sky,
but closer,
like an oft read book
whose well worn cover
fits perfectly into my hands,
both comforting
and exciting,
new and old
unknown and familiar.

Rain returns like
an old friend

and greedily I
gather you both
back to me.