Photo: tangled arch of pink wild roses with a glimpse of the sky

My fair one

Under a tangled arch of willow, ivy, and rose, she presses me back, back, against the rich loam, back, her fingers sly, her smile arch, her lips tipped with rose. Ever since the moon rose she has loved me well: my back is a bow, a lover’s arch. I arch my neck, cursing the rose-tinged … Continue reading My fair one


The things I forget are simple. Not your face, Or the color of your eyes (blue, with hints Of grey and gold, like the sea at dawn.) I forget the sound of birds marking the dawn, the taste of salt, the touch of sun on my face. I forget the shape of us. You left … Continue reading Castaway


On this perfect day I watch you throw rock after rock into a mountain stream, Your words a constant flow, a stream of consciousness; all day I lean against this rock and listen while the trees rock the sky to sleep. Clouds stream across the edges of the day. What would I not give for … Continue reading Idyll


The dogs of war are coming. They slipped out behind my words And are baying at the moon. Who would have guessed the moon Would be so long in coming? You never heard my words. And now I marshal words To defend myself; only the moon Sees the battle coming. I am coming to take … Continue reading Havoc


That morning by the sea, When all the ships were sailing blind, You read me like a book. I thought you must be blind. I scratched your name out of my book And tossed it in the sea. I never wrote the book You wanted. Your heart went to sea And slowly mine went blind. … Continue reading Salt