Friday, July 30, 2004

Just finished this. Dunno much more.


Your leaving left me like a war bride grieving
as if you were really gone for
good, better still with honor.
No letter posted from the front
relaying mined fields crossed;
No telling you’ve found descent into
muddied safety, sprawling under
smoke, beneath the battle, smug
with survival.

If I kept these home fires burning, heat
would menace air, and you would
make me choose. If I hung a star in my window
for you, it would only attract the dark.

I do intend to farm this victory
garden, small plot to tell practical fables
and it does, unearthing rusted small machines
that trail frayed cords like adventuring roots. I give back
by burying my oldest favors that were trouble
in the first place.

If I were not crouched and digging with my hands
I would stand leaning on my shovel,
then rake the gracious dirt with that polite
extension of my own arm, finally aware
that tools make us stronger.

Thursday, May 20, 2004

Aw, forget it. Just go here.

Tuesday, April 13, 2004

First stab.

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