May 27, 2018


here, at the end of a day
which seemed too much
in many ways
and not enough in others,
i will walk
down to the water alone

i will watch the setting sun
pour fire along the river,
putting aside all questions and sorrow
and world-weariness,
for they will keep,
and just breathe in
the calm sweet certainty
of that glory

i will hang my tired heart
among the rushes
and let the gentle touch
of light and water
and willow-song
make me strong again,
so i can carry
the heavy little thing
back home

and so to sleep,
and dream some better story
than my own,
to take into tomorrow
to hold up to the pain
and show me how to stay

May 16, 2018


while reading "knitting the wind"'s lovely blog this morning (, i was struck strongly by a question that she posed: "...what weather, what form of story, what strange metaphor, are you?"

my answer is, always, that i am a palimpsest... i am many things---too many things---all at once. at the risk of sounding like "the song of amergin", i wrote this rambling meditation that spun out of my blog comment upon that question...

i am a basket holding a history.
i am a jumble of tales.
i am a princess in a tower, who loves each stone.
i am a princess in a tower, who longs for freedom.
i am the dragon who placed her there.
i am the knight who seeks to free her, or claim her.
i am a silenced sister frantically spinning nettles.
i am a swan calling over reed-fringed seas.
i am a fox guarding her kits.
i am snow falling softly on fields.
i am small leaves that may heal or poison.
i am a fragment of song that sticks in the mind.
i am breakage and mending.
i am not what you thought.
i am not what i thought.
i am a flower that blooms only at night.
i am the moon that changes, changes.
i am the talisman that kept my ancestors safe.
i am the smoke of the ones who burned.
i am the jewel that scars the hand that holds it.
i am a mat at the door, covered in shoe-prints.
i am a cat curled by the fire.
i am ancient oceans, my cells remember them.
i am a harpy.
i am a hearth-keeper.
i am the light of distant stars.
i am a creature of mud.
i am a step in the dance of life.
i am a thread-snipper.
i am a well that echoes with voices.
i am a map that i cannot read.
i am a woman who sleeps among thorns.
i am, i am, i am,
endlessly turning...

May 1, 2018

honey trap

maybe love is a trap
that catches you
in ropes you have been
learning to tie
since you learned
to tie your shoes

they taught the boys,
"always be prepared "
and the girls,
well, they were taught
how to sell cookies

everyone seems to end up
on meds, but somehow
the boys still
make more money
and can't quite manage
the laundry
holiday cards
school conferences

and somehow
all of us can tie knots
even if they are a noose
the bow that ties
your shoes was called
a "lover's knot"
because the more you pull
the loops
the tighter the knot

midwifing the future

lately there has been much discussion about eco-despair, and the unavoidable degradation of everything, and the urgency of action to fight-...