dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: poetry

sticky night air
dream walks
drizzle doughnut glaze
over child thoughts
until the moon’s
hard honeycomb glow
hits glass jar sides
like fireflies
and escape seems
to drip soft from
the sweetest star


she sells
butterfly shadows
and handfuls of
cantaloupe strings
in a summertime stand
just off the fringe
of highway dust
and blurry pavement heat

she gypsy flings
earnings to
the breeze until
sound brushes through
her hair like wind chimes,  
dimes roll from pocket seams
like dreams,
not missed
unremembered


we found our
bicycle helmets-
cracked pastel plastic
spider-webbed
and too small

the frayed black straps pulled my hair
the buckle pinched your fingertips

but your thick scar
and my skipping heart
kept our heads hard

we were careful
but I’m still separating
pavement from skin


hosanna
a blade of grass
blown between the thumbs
eyes claim to see
staring into sun
in the highest


Sometimes we kid ourselves,
Reaching like stray
Hairs and lint tufts
For the pocket change
We gave to the fountain long ago.

We wished smiles well
With a blind coin toss,
Forgetting that
Copper heads bite
And chase us in dreams.


Throwing another year to the stars, hoping it
Wraps itself around
Each of the constellations,
Notching a diagonal across and 
Twisting a strand of hair, thinking of
Yesterdays.


I am wooden but carved.
I learn from rough paper strokes,
But when the metal edge bears down
I pull myself in-

I am wooden but carved.
I pretend that I am a flower instead, 
My dust falls as pollen,
Sunshine smiles
Through swinging bulbs
And drills buzz the bees’ song.

I am wooden but carved.
I understand “chip on your shoulder”
And “off the old block.”
I say I cannot rest with either.
I dream of a spring field to sway in.

I hope someone sees
My sanded layers
Fall like petals.
I am wooden but carved.