in between moments.

the difference between a bare blackboard and empty darkness

a piece of a chalk

a hand to hold it

a word scrawled

the dust trail that will never quite wash off

how long to stare at a bare blackboard

and call it empty darkness?

die no longer. fill the darkness. write.



hush hush darling hush
the night is slipping
there’s reason enough
hush hush sweet little one
elephants stampeding through tomorrow’s dust
you can find your ground to night
plant yourself deep before the morning’s bright
hush there’s reason enough

everybody rises
fretful harried one
we’ve all been given a hand
too well held to fall with the fading light
elephants stampeding through tomorrow’s dust
you’re already alright
alright hush alright hush
there’s reason enough


i was so glad to be asked
the lights whirring like silent sirens glowing, turning
the rush, the rumble
of the painted cars, burning colors and stars
it was cold winter
but the flashing, the flinging, the flying
i was entranced, warmed in forgetfulness and excitement
the bright dreams of innocence
the tickling fear before recklessness
and the full belief that flight will bring freedom
to be tossed and tumbled
turned, tipped, even taunted
this was your rollercoaster
and i was delighted to be asked

so we rode. terrified, but hiding it with brave faces and saucer eyes.
with laughter and those assuring smiles.
clapsed hands. through moments swift and wild.
and faces calm.
you know how soon the ride stops.
and i thought we’d ride again.
conquer the swift drops.
but you got off when the first ride came to an end.

i, panicked, sat as the ride once more began.
frenzied up the first incline but strong as it fell
i was sure you’d miss the thrill and return.

and there, at the end, you, but not alone.
so again i rode. now mocked and by the sweep and tumble.
motion-sick and jumbled. and again but easier. and again but easier still.

and off.
this was not my thrill. not the movement of my life. caught for a moment in flashing lie.

so searching. past the carousel, the spinning cups, and the fun house steps. i sought mine. my very own.

there in the simple ride, the drifting ride, i rose. the pirate ship, the soaring boat. into the air and up i go. and down as gently. swift and slow. this is the motion my body knows. my reaching heart, delighted starts. with each new rise and resting goes through each new fall. and the breeze that blows. and i am strong. and i will ride. the gentle sweep in the moon-kissed night. and confident in the ebb and flow. you were the churning ocean, but i am the steady boat.

“she is dreaming in the sky above her, she is dreaming in the earth below”

little dreams
in the shoebox under my bed
magazine clippings and a stone heart
found on the road
a faded bracelet of pastel roses on a worn-out string
scraps that once held memories lost when the story changed
an acolyte pin made of gold

they would build my castle

but i have no castle
i have some cardboard full of trinket trash

and a mind praying for God’s dreams as the body grows old

the cold water will wake you up!

the end of july, october tempertures.
my autumn heart alive.

allowing friends to lead me to adventure when all i usually do these days is hide.

water rushing down the rock. ride.
water round me, liquid ice. alive.
and the breath of the waterfall against my face.
the house of the waterfall, gray and calming place.

for a moment, a moment without time.
a memory that already leaps past the lines.
faces i might not know so well one day. sorrows forgotten. and the sweet way we play.
but the warmth of my own body in the chill of the swim….
the sky like winter, the lights all dim….
the whispery wild at my fingertips….
like i loved as a child, just the dreams of a kid….
easily one beat of bliss.
the rhythm to our songs.
oh dear Lord! our beat goes on!

i rode there amongst the trees. rode home amongst the trees.
they never stop singing to me. singing with me.
the things that have been, will be, remind me i’m free.

who i was. who i am. who i’ll be.
Lord, keep having your way in me.
it’s good to know i’m alive.

bye, bye, broken bottles.

i’m done filling bottles with half-dreams, i think.
i gave up a million realities to have one shadow sit next to me.

every girl hides behind her hair and a smile. every girl hides behind her hair and a glare.
we all just want someone to care, just want no one to care.
i’m weary of memorizing the backs of friends walking away.

i’m slowly throwing all the bottles out.
shudder at the scream of shattering glass. the scent of half-dreams pouring out, poisoned gas.

let’s toast today.
a resolution, say.
to stop hoarding what i don’t have.

i won’t be surprised anymore to find my treasures are all just poisoned glass.
these are my treasures no more.

let’s toast today.
new bottle, fresh wine.
i’ll stop calling anything mine.
whole dreams fly free.
they can walk away if they need to.

i’ll toast today. with or without you.
this bottle’s for the pouring out. and out. and out.
come by if you’re thirsty.

God, fill me up.