Thaw
When the rains came early,
Coursing down softly and slowly
Over the sleeping earth,
She liked to believe that where
Each drop hit,
A redblood flower red as raspberries,
Soft as a peppermint heart,
Began to grow. This was how
The Sky gave us
Forgiveness, she believed,
And this was how we learned,
After ceaseless centuries of snow,
To breathe, to melt,
To thaw.
My Lady of Shalott
I have always been like
Flowers drenched in water.
My veins flow like rivers stilled to a stop,
The sun waxes and drips sugarwater
Slowly, Slowly like a tonic and when
It lands on my fingers I almost love
The scalding as much as the
Wetness. Paper roses and mirrors, this is all
I have. Sometimes I wonder if I myself am
These walls and this tower, or if it is all
A dreamscape, if I tuck in the view at the
Corners because the edges are just too
Jagged to bear and I don’t want to see
Them. I do not know if I would rather forget,
Or if I even could. I sit staring
At scentless flowers through reflectionless
Mirrors. I am a memory Floating down
The river, past villages and rushes
And gaping peasants who say I’m a sign from God.
All I wanted was Sleep, for mostly, I am tired.
I am not the flower bud, but the forgotten
Petal that blew off when no one was looking,
And floated down under the rushes
Where no one knew.
Second-Half Sky
On pale waterlily feet, she tiptoed
Across the stepping-stones of
The sky’s second half, sending
Ripples humming out across
The algae-bloom pond. The birches
Bent and crumpled like paper dolls,
They wore ruffled dresses the color
Of melted butter. The frogs blew bubbles
Out of their noses, and when she
Popped them floating in the air they rang
Out giggling like high notes on a flute.
The reeds gossiped about the turtles
Next door and the fish gargled water
In their throats to make
Each other laugh. She sat down on
A silver stepping-stone in that second half
Of the sky and listened to them jump and
Croak. It was a green waterlily giggle-gargle
Song, it rang out humming as it kissed
The algae-bloom pond.