Place a pinwheel
By my gravestone
So when you visit
You’re invited
To see the spinning
Of our whispers
And the turns
Of nature sighing
-me


Place a pinwheel
By my gravestone
So when you visit
You’re invited
To see the spinning
Of our whispers
And the turns
Of nature sighing
-me

A wood ant
On my windshield
At 50 miles
An hour
I wonder
How long he held on
When he left
Where he landed
And if
I’m still holding on
Or have I already
Been
Brushed off
By a breeze
Or a low tree limb
Did we end up
In a destined place
Or sadly
Seperated
From where
We should have
Lived
-me

Baby spider
Weaving
On my bathroom sink
Don’t worry
I’ve got time
And careful space
For you
Your mother lived
Here safe
And sweetly
-me

I dreamt again of being
Held so safe even
From myself
-me

Artwork: Inside Out by Anthony Tremmaglia
I drove parallel
To a funeral train
We snaked our way
To an obscure grave
I was pulled along
Quite without my will
In my memory
I remain there still
-me

Curios
And curiosities
A heady mix
Of knick knacks
And dark
Dreams
Useful things
And tragedies
I find
I cannot leave
-me

Photograph by Scott Cartwright
I am no fading flower
But a vining weed
Invasive
-me

I dreamed of someone
Unseen by me
Who whispered in my ear
Of love so close
My cheek was warmed
My body leaned toward
Instead of away
And my wild hair
Swayed on command
As if tamed
By a slight summer breeze
-me
