Still, I try to hand you a little piece of me every day:
a single grape pulled from a vine of many.
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
Still, I try to hand you a little piece of me every day:
a single grape pulled from a vine of many.
“If you always do what you’ve always done,
you’ll always get what you’ve always got.”
I remember hearing this from a woman
whose face and name I’ve long forgotten,
sitting a few seats away from myself
in our little circle…
The year grows tiny:
Regrettably not the last
Time I close my eyes
I wake late to find him gone again
Boots gone with him, but favourite things remaining
I love this name of mine,
This name of no other;
This name I can’t — won’t! — kill
Just to satisfy…
You, far away,
have uncurled your fist for the gentle one
who travels so far,
day after day,
to climb into your palm.
I searched under dead leaves
Then in snowbanks
Then in the muddy farmers’ fields
Slick with damp autumn rain
I searched under my shared bed
Then on the highest bookshelves
…
A brother sets out
Chasing a runaway heart
Blazing through the night sky
A sister remains
Making a wish back home
On a shooting star
December 19 – 20, 2005
Fear moves through me.
Anger moves through me.
Each will pause for a time before moving along.
Each will always return.
When they move through me,
I must remember:
They visit;
I do not become.
When they return again,
I must remember:
They are smoke and wind.
They come to me.
I am neither.
December 16 – 18, 2025
We once spoke of ashes, of cinders
left behind in lightning-ravaged woods.
You questioned how you would rise from
your forest floor.
…