Month: March 2011
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Sunday Morning – my saturday
It’s warmer and raining. The yard is full of birds. Sparrows, Starlings, the swoop of a royal blue jay into a red-armed bush; his crown high and kingly. Tula and I are watching the birds, the occasional squirrel pass by. Her tail is wagging ferociously, she stretches up on the window and scratches like she’s…
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Feed her life
The blood-moon-month comes, rising full above the trees. Each night, in the shadow, I wait to see her, sleep and dream of her in a white dress, before she leapt off that ledge into teeth-green wealds. Somehow, I always found the strength to catch, to hold her weeping eyes before they shed into blood-emerald pools.…
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Calm and working
Another one is soon. A couple of days and I’ll release her. My house is creaking with heat and water. The heartbeat of wood and stone is not like our own. There is no rhythm, I can hear, but it does not mean there isn’t one. A whisper, a knock, a ding. Each doorway is…
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Cautious Quicksilver
I dreamt of a horse. One side silver, one side black. She shone, stood out, had a sleek back. She was wild, but not fast and took off before I had my stirrup tight. We were told to race on ice. We were ahead at first and then she fell behind. A woman gave her…
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Sea dreams
The sand was dark. Glittering reflections like ribbons down its back. pat and I were digging in the sand. I was trying to redirect the water with barriers, using my feet as shovels. Small walls of sand, but the water always broke through. We found caverns on the beach, other people were around. I collected…
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Dream
I was home, but I wasn’t. Walking around a town looking for someone familiar, hoping for someone to come. In a small cafe, the sign like a Swedish Village – black wood outlined in snow. I met up with an old friend. We searched for her partner in love in a run-down house he owned.…
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Empathy, by Stephen Dunn
Once in a small rented room, awaiting a night call from a distant time zone, I understood you could feel so futureless you’d want to get a mermaid tattooed on your biceps. Company forever. Flex and she’d dance. The phone never rang, except for those phantom rings, which I almost always answered. I was in…
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On the street
Last Saturday, I saw a Tall black man in a long black suit and hat, walking down the street, carrying a newspaper folded in half with one single red rose sticking out. I wonder where he was going at 9 in the morning? I hope it was for love.