Hurricane

I know fairy tales, funny sayings
and a few foreign phrases.

You know constellations, cell composition
and names of clouds.

I know Jabberwocky, a Shakespeare
soliloquy, and one moth's Latin name.

You know trigonometry and how to invest
money. You speak Spanish fluently.

Maybe I could keep your house clean, do
your typing and proof reading.

Maybe you could teach me things, like
how to love a hurricane.

Toothless Lion

Do you dream, toothless lion, of conquests;
the gazelle's neck, bloodshed, the golden floor
falling away beneath the pads of your paws. Do
you hate the hand that feeds you, faces between
the bars inspecting you, analyzing, speculating
on the origin of your scars. You blame them
for disbanding the pride, for the road lines that
divide your territory, for stealing your former glory,
your teeth and claws, muzzle, mane and maw.
What remains but memories? Security destroys
you. They feed you soft food without bones and
lead you on a rope around a small enclosure. A
kept lion without enemies, without cause to roar.
Sometimes at night you wake with the scent of
the Serengeti on your breath, a whiff of sun and
heat, a wisp of dream and its daylight death.
You feel concrete and straw beneath your limbs.
Your rising voice dies in your chest.

Green Field

Softly slowly sunlight melts yellow
and blue a stream running green
washing away salt, sand, impurity, the
ice encasing me. As I stand from each
strand of my hair winter falls. Stars shower
shining down the green field around.

Eowyn

His kiss was not the expected promise.
Waiting in your cold chamber is worse in winter
without the sun to cheer you, without your walks
by starlight, consolation for long nights alone.
In the end, Eowyn, it is the same: cook a meal,
pick up a broom. Clean, wait, remain. Live
in your moment of glory remembering
the one demon you slayed.

Best Wishes

I wish you a white dog, the touch of her fur and
tongue, and six sided snowflakes to melt on your skin.

I wish you wide silent roads and a dog who watches
falling snow, a dog whose joy feeds your own.

I wish you brown horses wearing purple blankets, safe within
the angles of their paddocks, still against a backdrop of sugar
flakes and tinseled trees and a dog that leaps and dances beneath.

Music

Over the phone his voice is
the smallest part of a man who
fills door frames, towers and leans
like trees. But his laughter leaps
through the line, spreading outside,
touching tips of pines, the talon of an owl.
Startled from its reverie the bird rises
ponderously, wings softly sifting,
the sound of waves rising to the
clean stars, mingling and ringing,
the owl's and the man's music.

Light and Fury

Water sprites whisk over the lawn's wrinkled brow

Sprinkler streams stand straight and bend back, bowing
to a greater power.

God of the wind, whirl me up. Sweep me
clean to Thee.

A sun storm of light and fury, strong enough to bleach bones touches twister-like before me.

Bluebirds flash glass and fire, jeweled jets burning
trails of air.

God of light that blinds, blaze and shine
so I may see.