124/365
May 4, 2013
If the Moon Wrote an Ode to Carrots…
We tried eating carrots in salad,
moon. We tried eating carrots
plain. We peeled, chilled, serrated,
chopped, steamed, sliced, pureed–
We fed them to horses
with hay.
We tried dipping carrots
in traditional ranch. As recipes
dictate, we grate, pickle, roast,
blanch.
We mixed them with
peas. Serve them blackened
with beans. Julienne them at hostels
in France.
But whenever we bite them,
we just can’t seem
to like them.
So we may not
eat carrots.
Again.
52/365
February 21, 2013
350/365
December 15, 2012
Things I Wanted To Write About While There Was Still Time
Your smile.
The way you turn
to face the window
as
you walk in.
Careful to stand
with your outside boots
inside the rug.
How the weary day dissolves
in the last pool
of December sun.
Reminding me to love exactly
this moment.
As if there wasn’t
another one.
334/365
November 29, 2012
I wanted to tell you
the truth.
Dust your ears
with pollen. You would
hardly notice my tiny feet.
My wings, fluttering
lighter than air.
I wanted to sing you
to life. Send
pinwheel dandelion seeds
to dance
across your cheek.
I wanted to breathe you
in and in
and
in again.
None of this melts
your icicle eyes.
You do not notice
my tiny feet. Wings,
lighter than air.
Truth.
333/365
November 28, 2012
Bookie
the way you hold them
linger with their covers
jealous of your books
239/365
August 26, 2012
moonsong
hot on your trail
with the top down
moon. even our skin
wants
to dance
with you.
151/365
May 30, 2012
(You)
If everything
were water—
I’d still be
so
thirsty
for you.
