L’Abri

May 31, 2020

I scrub kitchen floors
Wear a scarf from Greece
It’s cold in the manor house
We sleep with warm bricks

I learn to prune there
Climb a ladder
Up the apple tree
In Wellingtons

Later, we have tea
Read books out loud to each other
Before the fireplace
Some knit

As beautiful a commune
As it is
Artists, poets, theologians
Gather from Europe
They will not pray about my call

I am a woman
And to them
That is all

Martin’s Beer

May 31, 2020

Solid Tubingen scholar
Makes his beer once a week
We live in community
Christian folk
From around the world

We sip politely
The beer is horrible
But Martin continues
He has it for breakfast
With sausage and mustard

Their cries are so different
One laughs
One mourns
I hear them simultaneously
This May morn
A cacophony of emotion

In my own red throat

The Chestnut Oak

May 29, 2020

I count the rings
Of my favorite tree
I look for the
yellow-green acorns
To pocket
For my own crop

Houston (pronounced Howston) County
1939
Large footprints
A long gait
Challenge the boy
As they trudge through the thick
Hot woods
Swatting gnats
Sweat gathers on lean backs
They avoid the swamp
They carry rifles
A bird dog
Leads
As quail, dove
Are shot, cleaned

I disobeyed my daddy

He taught me to step
on top of fallen logs
In case a snake was curled on the down side
And I stepped in its coil

Before the pine beetle
Hemlock and dogwood blight
The logs were bigger then

Now, I can peer on the other side
As I barely lift my leg

But I think of him
Every time
And how I disobey

Fish Bones

May 23, 2020

If you dig deep enough
You will find a ring of rocks
And fish bones
Like fossils

We tied the horses to the Shagbark hickory
White foam under their girth where we rode them hard
Now, they step from hoof to hoof

It snows
We eat breakfast
Fried trout
And potatoes
Beside the trail

My orange knee sock
Catches on fire I’m so cold

Before Rachel Carson, we rode
The deep hardwoods of a climax forest
We quoted Thoreau and Emerson
We philosophized about a different world

Papa

May 20, 2020

You don’t smoke a pipe
Or have a beard
But a goatee grows on your chin
Beside your kissing lips

You’re sexy, man
With lines on your face
Which give away age,
Pain,
Now luster

Your blue eyes
In John Lennon spectacles
Shine

Your stance is solid
And your shoulder just right

I lay my head there and weep

For dreams
No longer deferred

For action taken

For a good man

We sleep well together
You hold me close

Papa

Sky Blue

May 19, 2020

Paler than a robin’s egg
But just as fragile
The sky wakes
Lifts
Mourns

For all that is lost
Scared
Empty

Like Water

May 18, 2020

From the underground
I defy gravity
And then
Obey
It pulls me
Down latitudes
Over humps
The lower side of
Rocks

I am water
And seek the lowest places
Find meaning
In transference
The voyage
To the lake

The Dancer

May 17, 2020

She twirls
Looks over her shoulder
Her neck long
Her fingers graceful

She is four
Legs longer
Than is fair
She points her toes
And spins

We weave in and out
Arms encircle each other
As I pick her up

Her head is on my shoulder
She’s my dancer
My ballet partner
My Caroline