spring
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Macro Photography of Magnolias Gives me Visions
Winter is like childbirth. When it’s over, you emerge on the other side and immediately forget the brutality you survived. Look at all this new life, this breath-catching softness, all these shades of pink. How beautiful this chaos, how noble to be gathering and cradling these bundles all aflame with promise and new. Surely this… Continue reading
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Like Other Springs Before
Dig deep. After all, it’s April and everything is coming up poems. Nascent growth on the roadside is conjuring shades of red and yellow that haven’t visited our dreams all winter. People are writing about what they found while searching for things they lost, what grace. Chaos shaped like hummingbird’s shadow hovering on the leaf.… Continue reading
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A Day, a Serendipitous Flower
And just like that, it’s like winter never happened. Was it only a moon ago that home was a heated brick prism with the comfort of a prison and we dressed in layers to survive, complementary colors and prints be damned? I am witnessing a new first springtime on the CTA. Women wear their hair… Continue reading
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The Last Days of Winter
I have to stop looking for that rendition cross-shaped shadow cast on bare brick, reclaimed architecture changing as the light changes. I have to stop falling for that peripheral purpose enigmas that don’t take root and actually say something even if it means defending a flaw I would like to pretend isn’t there. I have… Continue reading
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Mizuage (水揚げ)
April an invitation embezzling spells of innocence, verges of awakening, Gordian loopholes from the love language of hands quietly smoothing over the crumpled brows of dawn anguished over what sparse things it is able to carry to full term and leaving the rest to the condoning shadows. Believe, somewhere, in the dulcet hum of airtight bud… Continue reading
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At the Seams
spring arrives the way dawn arrives, only hungrier. there’s something to it like the chaos of childbirth: despair, pain, purging, cleansing, untouched corners and the change that touches them. water everywhere, light that hesitates. a pulling away, two seasons, two hemispheres of consciousness, two curses. pauses. hopes mixed with blood. Continue reading
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Finding Spring
not a trigger for remembering the past and the shades of swoon that turned sidewalks into grottoes of desire nor a bequest for the future to surfeit a longing that’s been holding out its hand to the unyielding cold because it is neither a compromise nor a conquest, no matter what the mythology of antiquated… Continue reading
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A Natural Habitat for Grace
These birds heralds of spring winged affidavits of being found of surviving turning stones inside my psyche looking for something like code words in hypnosis something resonates a familiar grace hardwired for flight that fearlessness is second nature bearing maps of worlds memories from vantage points of riding winds in pursuit of places ventriloquists projecting their… Continue reading
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Party on the Sidewalk
The wind is spiked with rumors of spring, and the trees are getting drunk off it. They’re all acting more colorful than usual. Continue reading
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Little Bird
He’s been staring out the kitchen window for a good long minute, my little toddler son. He watches the mallards and flame-colored cardinals doing their bird things in the rain. The little ornithologist. I’m not surprised. He listened to a lot of Charlie Parker in the womb. He might be able, in his soft, robin’s-egg-blue… Continue reading
Rampant & Golden 