If death's angel comes tonight sweeps with long skirts here she will find me gentle every dish washed each towel folded marvel that I am ready as if waiting for the knock that summons the next life
Tag: poetry
Sigh
This sigh dissolves all my heartsick wounded fretting glacier to meadow
Tuesday
The reinvention of Emily Wren began Tuesday, 2:17 p.m. She couldn't see it coming but when any of us is that lonely for that long this universe has no choice but to meet and mend and launch us out again across the vast expanse of days
Your Birthday
When you were alive I read your horoscope in the paper each morning for a sign you might love me that waiting and holding my breath would be rewarded We see where my hope led us but through the veil you promise: There is more love ahead than behind
Unprompted
Unprompted and unpraised you simply saw and did what asked for doing I remembered how long how lonely it has been since I knew care like that
Unfinished
Business undone wakes me from midlife slumber to face time fleeting
Eaves
The eaves drop rain like so many careless words I once let pass my lips
Unburied
The unburied dead lift their limbs and wounded hope silently skyward
Bend
This branch does not know how far it may bend before crashing down to earth I, too, cannot see the limit of endurance my own coming fall
Becker
You said our egos wrestle with greatness and finitude: We are at once like gods and worm food So it is most courageous to even leave the bed face the paradox ordinary heroism to greet the day
This Verse 