Of course the storm sirens went off while I was walking to my car after work. Why wouldn’t they? Radar swears there was a tornado in that thing, but who knows? It was to the northeast, which is the direction I was heading. Not that far northeast, though.
The dull aching bone
of a remembering thought
knows the shell
has cracked
I’m doing camp NaNoWriMo this month. Only I’m kind of cheating and using it as motivation to write a tiny poem a day. Or two tiny poems every other day. However it works, I want thirty of them by the end of the month.
Every lost city
beneath
the blue moss blanket
of dreams
recalls the secret road
waiting
without
My milk sea
Of hope
Smooth and breathless
Waiting
For the first
Finger bone
Of the broken dawn
Wake
Wander
Wish
Then be still
And listen
To the whispers
Floating
And remember
Your dream wings
This appeared in our loading dock at work. It’s no secret that the building is full of asbestos, and every time there’s a renovation project (which would be all the time), they end up having to do asbestos abatement.
Closet of Horrors
Closet of Horrors No More
I also got a great haul of books from Goodwill today. Because apparently you can never have too many books.
Dark o’clock on the Spring equinox.
My stony moon sleeps
and dreams of
perfect waves
crashing
in the raw season
A better mess
A perfect cyclone
tendril climbing from
the mother cloud
to lick
the salt
of a slow lazy dream
red paper boat 