Blog Page

Winter in the Night Fields   I was getting water tonight off guard when I saw the moon in my bucket and I was tempted by those Chinese poets and their immaculate pain.   Jack Gilbert The Dance Most of All [Knopf, 2009]

The Tattoo

I've always wanted a tattoo a miniature cougar, green eyes and bright red tongue or a rose of carmine dressed with dew. First it was my mother, Oh you'll spoil your body. Then my fear of the men who stood outside the tattoo places, anchors, snakes, and wearing leather gloves without fingers. Last year I thought… Continue reading The Tattoo

Harvest

The sky is gray with rain clouds, the moisture welcome after the heat of August. Corn still waits in its greenish robes for someone to pull them back to see the tender young kernels, that dry out while on the stalk. In the summer, trucks arrived with teens who pulled tassels from every other row. The fine… Continue reading Harvest

The Exam

The metal footrest numbs my feet and the backless gown escapes my body. I sip barium on command: Turn this way, take a breath now blow it out--hold it, don’t breathe. The table and I fall backward in space. Images of my stomach, ghostly white,fill the small screen-- grainy like underwater movies where moray eels… Continue reading The Exam