Somewhere like
a clearing in a forest,
a box in a bedroom closet,
that triangular room under the basement stairs,
up the sleeve of your homemade dress
Messages
bones
secret loves
old kleenex
The things we hide
the things we save
the secrets and secret spaces
somewhere, scattered carefully
throughout our hidden lives.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Strawberries/04.07.10
Strawberries
I dreamed that strawberries were $1 each. Too much. I put them back. Back. I wanted to go back. We were on a familiar country road, mom. You and I. The breeze was perfect, you were beautiful as always, the strawberries were strawberry-red. And I ran down that road, trying to go back, getting nowhere, strawberryless.
04.07.10
My hand is shaking, dry, some vague shade of brown. Like a leaf. The wind, the world is swirling. I'm not sure how tightly I'm holding on. Enough to watch earth-colors spinning round me.
Oh, life! Why must everything be so intense and colorful and terrible and wild? I feel it. That life-energy beats inside me; I don't know what to do with it. So my hands shake, my spirit quakes with mystery and being and life. Does anyone else feel this way?
I dreamed that strawberries were $1 each. Too much. I put them back. Back. I wanted to go back. We were on a familiar country road, mom. You and I. The breeze was perfect, you were beautiful as always, the strawberries were strawberry-red. And I ran down that road, trying to go back, getting nowhere, strawberryless.
04.07.10
My hand is shaking, dry, some vague shade of brown. Like a leaf. The wind, the world is swirling. I'm not sure how tightly I'm holding on. Enough to watch earth-colors spinning round me.
Oh, life! Why must everything be so intense and colorful and terrible and wild? I feel it. That life-energy beats inside me; I don't know what to do with it. So my hands shake, my spirit quakes with mystery and being and life. Does anyone else feel this way?
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