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Laura
These words of sky open up the breath I still remember Their windows bring that clean blue growl my hands have missed lks 6/18/09
Laura
Shattered by wild weather, We measure floodwater With ink and narrative. You listen to these rogue spirits, Becoming the rising geometry Of wet churning magma. I wonder at your simple repair, The moveless, lucid energy of... More »
Laura
What kinds of words might the kudzu whisper to the magnolia branches as it overtakes them? I imagine them to be syllables of consolation and care, spoken with tenderness despite the encroachment of vine... More »
Laura
The words loved me, and I loved them in return. --Sonia Sanchez I miss the places where writing poetry used to be. Where it took me. I feel sure those places are still there, but... More »
Laura
There's a threshold place where sadness and great joy play together. It's a paradoxical thing, a mixture of grief and happy anticipation and simple pleasure at being very directly and thoroughly in the moment.... More »
Laura
There is a dream dreaming us. ---Australian aboriginal saying Dream is defined on a number of levels by Merriam-Webster but the one that's on my mind is the most immediate, literal meaning, "a series of... More »
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