Poetry

My mother grows delphinium, foxglove, zinnia, plucks the dew laden morning. With a storm of petals, she anoints my waking...

Nothing stays at rest molecules of a crystal—table salt snowflakes, diamonds, quartz—repeat their patterns in tight formation like a platoon...

On the weekends the boys would take their bikes into the desert carrying wicker baskets and sharpened sticks in search...

The obituary talks of his smile. I imagine it breaking through his face like a thunderhead, frantic like a hunted...

Fire blight has touched the pear, and the bright leaves And rounding fruit crumble to ashes despite the sun, The...

put on Atom Heart Mother and guide him to sit on the edge of the bed with lit candles on...

  says I’m divine like a banana split he can’t say no to. When he calls my name he shouts...

I wait for you while the sun seeps out of tea bags in backdrop of overnight porcelain retrieved from cold...

You and I, at opposite ends of the universe, perform our unusual dance, you, spinning clockwise to the delight of...