At the Gate

Once the race is run
don’t the horses circle back
counter clockwise across
the same turf where once
they stood inside the gate
muscles warmed, minds
furlongs in the future.
Isn’t it also true that in
running the final stretch
they return to the place
new races will unfold?
If I were a horse consider
me ready to be loaded in,
not for the first time,
listening closely for the
bell in the way that I once
was a mare inside a gate
waiting my turn to run
and would like to again

December 30, 2019

Standard

Summer Sound

The new sound came
from somewhere
(I don’t know where)
unmarked, like a letter
with no sender address
just as smooth-edged
as you might picture
and was welcomed
even I say ushered in;
a melodic relief it was
fingered and opened
allowed to unroll itself.
Afterward breath felt
less grim than before,
new skin formed and
could hold more of it,
like how you might feel
if prayers were heard,
finally, after all that time
hoping on your knees.

Standard

Notes in a Drawer

Some sweep errors of the past under rugs;
I am a corner-of-the-bottom-drawer girl.

Some months ago, maybe five, maybe six,
it became time to no longer bear the weight

that no one means to haul around for so long,
but the mind somehow revels in punishment.

In the hallway, bending to the lowest drawer
where for more than a year hid folded papers

I looked them over once, knew it was done;
had known earlier on but would not admit it.

Where they are now is lost and gone; notes
last seen upon letting down the lid of the bin

no longer hold séance in my home, nor conjur
old mistakes back to life. Forward, now, finally.

(February 22, 2019)

Standard

Prayer for Spring

Three days in and your gifts,
tangible and not, have blossomed.
The earliest yellow buds peek out,
the snap peas climb and cling wildly.

Sun, we undo months of curtains
to let in your buttermilk warmth.
As your stay increases each day
so will I turn my face to the light.

Digging my fingers into potting soil,
my emerging naked feet on the grass,
the heart is ripe and swelling for you:
newly arrived season of growth, of hope.

Standard