A Glass Full of Swans

The woman waded through the moonlit fields like a horse – deliberately. Her mouth was a pale line in the darkness, like someone searching for a love lost in death. Her bracelets clinked like hooves to cobble. I watched her move over the field like someone sleepwalking...

Homeward

1. And he said, “There is a reason you stopped drawing trees.” on the same morning that the hand on the clock stopped turning. 2. You spent that morning opening fields – releasing crows in large billows into the sky. There was no one. There was a...

Lower Life Forms

There are men who choose to live without trees. You dreamt that scattered wheelbarrows covered the earth like stones, that flowers broke under the wind that dusted the water. You did not believe that your wife’s shadow looked like a tree against the sun – its wavering...

At Confessions

There comes a time when the trees begin to trade places. A woman spirals through limbs, the nearby depths of a lake – You remember the day when you explained to her how you wanted to wait for a winter wedding – You dug up the charcoal of leftover flowers and leaves,...

The Façade of Orchard Willows

There are days when summer and winter seem to reverse – unwind the flowers. You close the door. Knock as though dead limbs and leftover pollen will answer. You wind your way through the orchard as if you were a ghost. Haunt the underside of trees, unwind their roots....

Cherry Blossoms

Sinful. Your lack of poetry – You. Becoming hollow. I see it coming every Wednesday – you become something – like ancient ruins. like peach trees reflecting in your eyes. As though your skin swallowed sunrise and the stars as though you deserved...