What is this woodblock in my chest
beyond kilos and pounds to tons (or tonnes)?
Quivering, it vibrates my spine,
my foggy head,
all’s aching weight,
anguish and dread.
poem-heavy December 4, 2020
poem- picking light August 30, 2019
For Jordie
She sees it on the floor
reaches for the white spot:
light.
Three times the lights calls her.
Three times she reaches.
Three times she rolls her eyes.
She doesn’t need to pick up light,
it already glows within her,
touches everyone she knows.
Her light is kindness;
it’s overflowing,
and dripping on her floor.
poem- lips November 12, 2017
laughing eyes
begin to smoulder,
leaning in
gentle touch,
lips spark
in the darkness
electricity
between us
poem-dust January 28, 2015
The layers
speak of neglect
and distraction,
of time passing.
Traces of us
settle on ledges
and I am loath
to find a cloth
and wipe us off.
