Poems

  • 21 January 2007

    That slender elm or maple, calling us
    Back between the towering glass walls while
    Leaves rustle in between the droplets of the
    Downtown fountain's spray,
    Or as we trundled up Mount Washington
    Among its richer kin:

  • 22 October 2005

    The press of the vacant Southwestern sky

    pulled us all together,
          in centrip-
          idal
          force before we
    flung out into adulthood.

  • 15 May 2005

    I know the breath of the light
    Through the blinds,
    Last gasps of the final sun

    As I stand there at the sink
    Washing knives,
    The dim light pressing your arm
    Against my chest as you stand behind me.