Poems

A twist, a turn, a yo, a loop through
A stitch made, not a knot
Row after row, easy to unravel, yet
it holds


The wind sang to me last night
Longing for company, just for awhile
Just until the moon fades


Feel [an old poem]

Sometimes I feel like the sound of a weeping willow
A cool summer’s day in a field of tan and yellow with nothing but blue in the sky
No sound but for the rustling of leaves and butterfly wings, the scent
of heat wafting only in the stillness

Sometimes I feel like the sound of snow
On a dark cold night with the stars shining down
The smell is like the smell just before a winter’s storm
The sound of my feet sinking under my weight into the freshly fallen snow

Sometimes I feel like the sound of rain
Grey and overcast gloomy
The air tasting metallic against my tongue
Running down my face cleansing away