Last time I call you darling
Birds fly across
Crane toward heaven,
still see/only shadows
As the crow flies
light flies faster
-sound far behind
But shadows, old friend
In cold pursuit
And you so sure you can
Outrun them
Birds fly across
Reply
Category Archives: child advocacy
The Vigilant Ones
If I were to write a book of fiction for my children I would construct people for them, community, a family, let’s say, a big, sprawling, messy family
Maybe they would live next to some kind of river
Maybe the dogs would talk or the fish would taste like brightly colored jello confections.
Or maybe these fictional people, these purely hypothetical people, would just be back up
The silhouetted figures you might see on the crest of the hill above the sycamore tree as the sun sets
After the dam breaks
When they-you-we
Might need the vigilant ones
The most.
My Books in the Vortex
I have recently been informed that my books (modest, personal, subdued) are buried in the cobwebby bowels of Amazon. Here are the links:
A Mending Day
I need a mending day. I don’t know where the time will come from, or who will thread the needle, scout the house for broken pieces,
Stitch them all
Smooth and fold them
Back together
Luis, I…
Luis, I once lived in a country where the money I earned was worthless outside the country but could buy beautiful, irreplaceable things inside the country. I had a gigantic blue suitcase, a backpack. I took treasure home, but not enough. I should have emptied my bags of all the replaceable things and brought home treasure.
You are home treasure
You are Home, Treasure.
The Last Normal Day
We are eternal, they are eternal, I tell her, but I know that there is something else, the purest kind of paradox, or is it tautology? Etiology? The woman in the park, on the streets, flagging down motorists, in the parking lots of churches, where people congregate like flocks of birds, always, always asking this uncomfortable question–
When was your last normal day? When was your last normal day?
When? When the truth
Stalks in
Wide awake
Coffee with Tara
I can’t have coffee with Tara, the stuff she drinks is way too strong for me now, but I wait for her anyway, keep glancing out smudgy windows at the passing clouds, shafts of light, signifying every
valley filled, hill made low, road made straight, and all these rough, rough ways, smoothed at last.
Luke 3:5
Tara B.
For impossible things
Trust God
Don’t flinch
Rocks Cry Out
Luke 19:40 NIV
[40] “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”
I supplicate
Raise hands heavenward-
(Where Thou art)-
Give me stones and pebbles, hands-full-anything-anything
I can lift up to you,
Tell you, breathe on us, breathe us all into
Sharp shafts of light
ScarJo wha?
Dear Scarlett Johansson,
Would you please 1. Read Woody Allen’s Wikipedia page 2. Comment on the number of time he has trucked out the trope of the teenage ingénue in his films and private life 3. Tell us more about how you assess his sexual relationships with these teenage girls (real and thinly fictional) and then
Ask yourself how old was Dylan when she was dragged into a rape story? Would you want that for your daughter? Would anyone?
Believe is a strong word.
With lasting consequences.
