I’m navigating waters I thought I’d tempered a long time ago. It comes to me in waves … or like the winds of March, going out like a lion when I thought all that early snow would mean it’d be a lamb. It’s not. I trusted a fairy tale – an old saying into which…
Something drops hard in my stomach. It almost keeps me from eating another bite, so I simply sit with it. Wait till the feeling passes before anything else may begin. It saps me. As if a knot in my stomach pulled loose, a thread is unraveling at my feet. Had I sewn it? I’m pondering…
The Blood Worm Moon of March has shed something from me. It awakens, then falls back to sleep, then reemerges once more, just like the spring awakening that yearns to come. Yet, she’s temperamental – a lion snuffing the winter from her nostrils. Like us. Let’s cut to the point– I know because I’ve done…
My eyes aren’t fledgling anymore… A sort of somberness settles inside me with the implication alone. Growth. It makes me nervous. It can get so big in the britches. But this is a deeper knowledge of self – one that appreciates to a greater degree how little a person ever truly knows about themselves. That’s…
The witch is back on her broom again. She’s got her cauldron bubbling over, splattering onto the hearth & homestead of your imaginations. Nimble fingers wrap twine around birds’ feathers, pulling them into her hair. She mutters her words of safety for the flight – her eyes pinched shut. I’m hot-gluing golden sequins onto her…