Poems

Tell me again how I will be
okay without a shell, outside myself,
with you.

Pilgrim in fields bright
with snow, my heart returns

You make it look effortless,
opening, closing your eyes,

Sun on your face closes your eyes
and you are absent for awhile –

Maybe she climbs inside your car with force
enough to leave you lost among familiar streets,

Her first flowerpots convince her
not to change her name,

The four-year-old wearing her dancing dress
is pulling dolls apart in search of the smallest self.

Count it so I
can discern –
heart a beating scale

The station is full of men
in hats, pinstripe-serious,

The dancer swoons, marionette
nodding in an ecstasy of praise.