Until I catch up with my life again, a handful of snippets will have to do. Here are a few unedited lines that surfaced in the midst of my morning poem chaff over the past few days. I am so inspired by your lists of life-altering artists, writers, etc. I want to compile them into a sidebar feature--with links to all your amazing blogs. Thank you for filling me up with new places to look for wonder, for solace, for joy, for sustainance. I spent the evening in a bookstore, with a stack of books about two feet high. So good.
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We twirl gradually towards better days, our knees scraped, our hearts drenched in the honey of love.
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The moon bright and white, caught in the corner of the window like a lone daisy petal or a wedge of chalk.
* Night comes too soon after sunrise now. The days, turning towards winter, have me stumbling again towards the center in me.
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Like a pale china bowl, upturned overhead the sky is glazed pink and shades of lavender.
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Tree silhouettes are becoming sharp, crowns of twigs amidst a hillside of fire.
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Its hunting season again. Bucks rake their antlers across the sky in anguish. Stars scatter earthwards, becoming dew. Fawns, full grown but knowing nothing of mistrust, lurch to their knees red blood spilling onto the brittle end-of-summer grass.