I became a boat, became             closed scope, became static.  Does the water not move, still, in waves?  I became a road, became             oil and bone, became static.  Do the cherry blossoms not spill, still, like a watermelon cracked  open with a mallet? I became a home, became             soap and lye, became static.  […]

You needn’t worry Mother places her mantra in the palm Of my hand and presses reassurance. Then she lets go. Her words slip through my fingers like Water. And I can’t be wasting water. Temperatures surge to 25°C It is April and we’re burning. Run inside and switch the lights Out, plugs off, silence. They […]

to tread tenderly and still feel the whole earth creak and crave wilderness but leave tracks binding the terrain to fear the summer, the sweetness of fruit in decay and yet to see mushrooms flourish madly in spite of you to let every grief make a garden of you and to bloom and bloom and […]

A thousand miles away a country burns as we decide it is time for a Twilight marathon silvery moon cold skin in my heart as Bella moves from Phoenix, Arizona making me see climate refugees even in my YA we cannot see the flames like bees we are asleep smoked out impervious to our home […]

The sun rises; there is no rain. I  look out at this gazed upon world, And I am counting the bees again. Do spiders return to the window pane As they should after so many moons? The sun rises; there is no rain. I find no relief in the quiet old lane Where I would […]

Wendell Berry called it the “Peace of Wild Things” but the milk boy called it the curdled edges of his skating pond and the priest in his red house called it this too shall pass, and the black geese called it a generational flailing, and my lover called it a summer storm but really it […]