Submerging GreenA stranger’s tilted spine brings me to the top of my childhood’s staircase. From its edge, I watch my father digging through the drawers...
The traveler’s buoyancy; riverskinNo one knows his person by name, or face, or gait. He travels, he rebels, there’s mystery. He practices standing up straight. He wears...
ThunderstormsQuiet cul-de-sac, I live ‘round your curve. I follow your arch and hop between rain puddles. When thunderstorms come, I imagine the...
Excerpt from "Ruminating on Eucalyptus, Lightshine, and Anna’s Hummingbird"I can see it in your eyes. It sounds and looks beautiful, but it asserts honesty and begs for it all at once, which can possibly feel...