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Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Before I Sleep

On the darkest evening of the year, I follow the downy-flaked trail out past the village. Between the woods and frozen lake, I locate the dollhouse. My sister can’t drag it any farther. Stopping here, we watch it fill up with snow.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Somewhere Not in the Hills of the Spanish Civil War

I was lying in bed without him, recalling how it used to be before Hemingway ruined it for all of us. There was a shuddering, and the night froze. Now I’m left hanging, forever facing Venus, butt of some juvenile cosmic joke.

Wednesday, January 7, 2015


She sits as his last breath rises. His soul, energy, life-force hovers goodbye. No, she says. Rising, it disperses, turning into universe. No, she cries, how will I know you? Out near another galaxy it flinches. Gathers. Returns. Reenters her atmosphere. Ignites.

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