Tag: poetry
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To be certain,
let me first spend some of each day, some of each breath looking after what is true- the purple star flower of a flax seed true Sun Golds like Easter eggs on a late August vine true the squinty red bloom of a Desert Rose true an Archipelago of clouds in a great blue sky (like…
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The Delight Song of Stephanie Marie Santos*
I am the spine in a body called Stephanie I am the blood that beats her 4 chambers of heart and that one lonely hallway I am the untrellised veins how they spider and fill her frame I am skin each pimple and pock each pore and sensation moves through me I am the breath in her lungs (of course I am) but so, too am I the wonder of each finger and all ten of her toes; how a body can make a digit soft with its beds full of nail I am the waters of her womb: where her babies turned their first somersaults and all her…
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July
for AG Come to me slow, and easy and empty let me breathe right here in the thick of it wring water from my spine so my hips sit tall and fill with the fluency of your flowers with the shades of your contentment until every last golden jungle has been etched into my skin so I…
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where the ice pops take us
yesterdays pool water cloudy & scooped todays peach-parched begonias dead heads too last nights grill scratched clean now ‘nother round of dino jungle it’s your turn Wavy chalk drawn roads where tiny toy cars go bubbles blown by baby’s breath dance delight float on hawks squawk and birds call loud fast-moving preybelow shade is cool…
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becoming water
when it became clear the cancer was going to be the thing to kill her; that the slow growing malignancy in her brain was going to be the thing to carry her away from us, from her body, from the beautiful life she’d created, she booked and kept her annual reservation at a yoga retreat in Costa Rica…
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two by two
stacked rocks fall I stack them again to be sure to be sure. two wicks burn the same candle spirits alight; bodies of fire. ranunculus petals fall one on top of the other like even in death they can’t stand to be apart (even in death.) about these poems a family I don’t know personally…
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Paper-whites
Truthfully, I hoped you’d ask about the Paper-whites. About their 4 x 3-foot patch of soil, about the piece of hand-me-down wrought iron fencing behind them, the single stake with the pointed spade missing between stake 5 and stake 7. I could tell you about my mother, Sandra then and for a few moments at…
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the eyelash on my cheek
it’s too soon to give it up the familiar galaxy I sometimes feel beating the gape of my chest. its flutters have wings, ancient and strong and still, I don’t yet know how to make it fly; don’t (yet) know what to do with it besides know that it’s there and it needs my…
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When We Were Ocean
I did not know color even as I could feel your blue, your sudden waves of gray sunk deep beneath their verdant vegetation. I could not have imagined the intricacy of your eyes; how a holding pattern could bleed two watchful pools of self-reflection. When we were ocean I did not know what to call you, nothing…
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statue of limitations
I sit alone off the Southern Coast of Rhode Island, anchored to nothingness, the ever-moving Atlantic is restless and keeping watch of too many silent exiles to count I am a tiny speck of land; an afterthought of sandy blonde beaches rising to meet each Kelly-greened bluff giving way to that great gray puddle of sea…
santos scribes 