Tuesday, April 19, 2011


Today I watched a digger eat a church I knew and loved
When the last familiar piece was shattered, gone and dead
Even the digger hung its head

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Shag Rock

Shag Rock is gone
And I will never look on it again.
Life size
Set against a burning sky
Tide playing, restless, at its feet.

Last time I looked on you
You did not say goodbye
Nor turn your face away
Nor give me any sign at all.

I was the one who looked away, too soon.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Sneak Up

The Mist and I have been playing
Sneak Up Granny.
Everytime I turn my back she creeps forward two steps
So that now I can't see the tops, can't see the heads, can't see the channel
Can't see much of anything at all
'Cept grey-green water and the feet of the hills dangling in it.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

At St Marks

If I were to say that love trans-figured your faces,
It would be nothing but the truth.
That love wove itself around you a shelter
That love whispered the leaves and made the sun shine
That love itself has soaked into the very marrow of your bones
It would be nothing but the truth.

I will tell now that love weighed you,
Found all the cracks and filled them in.
That you feared love, but love did not fear you.

And at St Marks, in the crook of the river, under the watchful eye of the hills,
You found your courage and surrendered to it.

Friday, December 04, 2009

West Coast Beach

My happiness is sunning herself on the stones
Her clothes are too big
Her bones stick out awkwardly
She is picking up the pieces of her life
On here, another over there.
She is laying them on the table, piecing them together

She picks up the stones and puts them on her skin
Letting the warmth seep in.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

On needing more time.

But actually, inside, it's still dark, if I were to be really honest. Raw and open and touchy as a wobbly tooth. Don't impinge on my darkness just yet.


Stumbling around in the semi-dark
Tense and worn
Can't find a dry spot to rest on
Can't find a shoulder to lean on.


River slide by me
Soothe me
Cool hand on fever

Thursday, November 26, 2009


I come here among and between the tall trees
Leaf bound and light bound
Darkly perfect and tightly rooted in the cool ground

I make myself a hollow for my home
Finding I am not me less my grief
But there is room here for that too.