I watch the Appaloosa paw the ground,
dust coming out of her nostrils,
muscles rippling suggestively
as if she will run and never return
I want to tame her,
as I could not you
and this she knows as she
stares me down
as you did the day you told me (without tears)
you were leaving for Washington
to work on your parents' farm instead of ours
leaving me
in this damned corral
to win your horse's trust by moving slow as I can--
I raise my hand to her nose and she
runs away swiftly
to the far fence, where she eyes me
whites showing, nostrils flaring
so I whistle, calling her name softly
and she comes
shyly, her head nodding as if to say
"Yes, I will be yours"
like you said once
many springs ago
I try to touch her (touch you)
but she recoils (you turn away)
and she runs away
swiftly
She came to the gate, they said, as if looking for me
but I am tired.
They said she nickered softly, but when they tried
to approach her
she runs away swiftly
It is night now and the animals
"slumber in peace" (Richard Wilbur wrote knowingly)
but I will not sleep. Since you left,
I do not sleep.
--1992/rev. 1998: this was an assignment in my first creative writing class at UF. We had to take a line from a poem we were studying and write a poem using it.
Someone you love
candlelight sparkles on the ceiling
the sound of the key in the lock
turning
turning
into the shimmering darkness
a pathway of light
the hope triggering my heart
beat beat beat beat
Are you here to stay?
I ask.
You whisper
I could not go with her.
I do not love her.
I say to your open face
My love is not chains.
It will not shackle you to me.
You are free to live your life, to be yourself.
I want to be someone,
someone you love.
My love is not perfect, nor neat
you say
But it is for you, and for you only.
I want to live my life in your life.
I open my arms
Come to me
I will love you always.
We stand close
our arms encircling one another
the understanding between us
a whole new light
shimmering within our hearts.
--1994
[untitled]
I watch the crimson
bleed
onto the plaster,
and I think--
not long ago I wished to bleed
as the pain bleeds,
covering all the white,
all the pain.
I lived as though the light of day
did not reach my soul...
my heart sings as the mockingbird sings--
different notes
as I think of you.
--1998
She watches the Moon rise
she watches the Moon rise.
it starts out small,
and grows bigger by the minute--
no, by the second.
she smiles to herself,
the Moon's light bathes her face
all Silvery cobwebs on
nose, eyelids, lips.
he sees
the Moonrise caress her.
he watches the Quicksilver touch her hair, skin.
he wishes he were the Moonlight.
--1998
[untitled]
Ramses as a young child
would watch the snails
recede and return with the tide of the Nile at Waset
while he practiced on papyrus
the writings of his father's priests;
usually, though, instead of imitating,
he would make his own symbols--
for instance, a great heron standing above her nest
became an ankh,
and his new symbol
(which made Seti very proud of his son)
began appearing everywhere--
tombs' walls, wax seals, even gold plates:
but what European translator would have guessed
that this symbol of life was thought up by a boy
who liked to daydream?
recede and return with the tide of the Nile at Waset
while he practiced on papyrus
the writings of his father's priests;
usually, though, instead of imitating,
he would make his own symbols--
for instance, a great heron standing above her nest
became an ankh,
and his new symbol
(which made Seti very proud of his son)
began appearing everywhere--
tombs' walls, wax seals, even gold plates:
but what European translator would have guessed
that this symbol of life was thought up by a boy
who liked to daydream?
--1992: this was another assignment from that long-ago creative writing class. I don't remember the prompt.
Mouse house
Bleached white by the unforgiving sun,
her skull,
sunken on one side,
lay discarded in the sands of the dune.
her skull,
sunken on one side,
lay discarded in the sands of the dune.
She is found by biologists
investigating not death--
but how a small mouse can live on this island,
with the air so salty and no fresh water available.
The mouse challenges all beliefs.
Her skull has become a mouse house.
investigating not death--
but how a small mouse can live on this island,
with the air so salty and no fresh water available.
The mouse challenges all beliefs.
Her skull has become a mouse house.
The door, an eye socket.
It once held an eye
a beautiful gray iris surrounded by flecks of gold.
The head cavity, where an intelligent brain had been,
It once held an eye
a beautiful gray iris surrounded by flecks of gold.
The head cavity, where an intelligent brain had been,
is stuffed with dried dune grasses.
The jaw, in its permanent toothy smile,
holds tiny berries that form at the roots of the grasses:
succulent gray green globes, that when popped between two fingers,
are full of fresh sweet water.
The jaw, in its permanent toothy smile,
holds tiny berries that form at the roots of the grasses:
succulent gray green globes, that when popped between two fingers,
are full of fresh sweet water.
--2004
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