Poetry
Selected Poems
Before the light leaves us, I tumble two
stones, the ones you brought me, in hand.It has been too many days since we’ve met.
I watch green turn to night-scumbled shades,climb the hill toward a line of oaks. Faint sun
passes through, umber green to ochre gold.
The Rumpus, 2021
Two Stones
for Deborah Miranda
Let time run through whatever is not us, I thought us, the braided word I wanted—our compact a singular rock untouched by tide our bank high
Twyckenham Notes, 2021
cantaloupe honeydew romaine Swiss chard leek watermelon—o small, sweet pumpkin settled in your hollow still, we could eat you right up, just scrape the seeds & roast them
Literary Mama, 2021
I knew then what spirit and soul
meant, kept my covenant with the shallows
of the Atlantic, and built my temples at its shore.
Empty House Press, 2020
You would not begrudge the milkweed pod
its bloom in winter, or the pale flakes
of snow,
a vortex caught in the edges
where are you
Nashville Review, 2019
Anniversary
For W. S. Merwin
Recall Benjamin’s angelus novus,
broad wings blown back by winds
from paradise, the sediment of time.
Appalled, that angel still waits
for us—why—a distant constellation
of all times, revolutionary time.
Vinyl, 2019
It is what refuses us.
We stroke along its granite skin. How slowly it comes, an edifice echoed from us.
Trace a name down its spine, call it Ineffable
as it sheers toward liminal night. A siphon of voices cast as solid absence,
those unremembered echoed back on us in an oblivious clash.