PLAN IT

rain hangs in the air, swells my eyelids.

seasons never change without a storm.

the time has come for the observer to be observed.

they wait for months for me

and you barely waited until I was eighteen.

the winds lift my hair with my permission, spread,

until I become a fearful sight of flame

a standstill dance

I order coffee with room

and wonder how long it will be

until the barista's eyes linger not for love,

but for faint familiarity

will there come a day 

when I long to draw away 

to an alpenglow town and sling coffee by dawnlight

rather than see my face posted on glossy pages and screens

plan it, orb it.

try to shape it into your hands

there's no making sense of her nonsense

the writing is on the wall, not the stars

the darkness a canvas for my creativity

that which you have given me

could she run forever ?

WELL WISHER

in this story, the well wisher doesn't come away with the servant's master.

in this one, she draws from her own eyes

the hebrew day always ended at sundown anyway

come away, come away, they say

I will s.t.a.y.

I will offer a cup of cold water and stay

my defender, my loyal friend is here now

he draws from my saltwater well

all's well, all's swell.

sunrise was only the middle,

not the beginning, not the end.

bleeding over us like a tapestry.

the thin paper of this tent whispers in the wind,

like you whispered in the wind,

both nothing

compared to the house my father builds for me.

EVENT HORIZON

is it just the taste of coffee 

welcomed by my neurons as I observe morning sun on the apartment panels

or did you say hello?

a moment of love

redeems years in the grave

many waters cannot drown it

and you said you would dwell in thick darkness

is it just the taste of coffee 

or is this some kind of verge?

are we all tilting gently over the event horizon?

I seek library aisles and abandoned warehouses and avoid cutting my bare feet on shards of glass

as the summer rises thick and wild at a familiar frequency

I see a wedding

I see a bride

I see it all spinning on an axis

SLIPSTREAM

did I miss it?

the warm humming invitation rising from concrete?

the whisper of wild summer coming?

on a day in winter, a day like any other,

suddenly it arrives without warning.

it does every year,

and the only way to notice is with your cheek to the window screen

curled up in a yellow blanket 

reading a book on the floor. 

the flowerbed outside becomes my forest

sheltering hedges filtering the light

the arrival of summer is greeted by an eager child

summer, yes, not spring,

because that ripple of light in the air brings it all

brings saltwater pools and swimsuits and milkshakes at sundown.

but did I miss it this year?

I missed it last year in the mountains

tracking through snow in my slip-ons

this year in dallas, the trees turned slowly green,

exchanging their desperate bare branches for brilliant oak leaves,

but suddenly it is easter.

did I miss it?

I lift into awareness at the song of a girl named Ariel

you said I always was one,

helplessly in love with the sea

but trying desperately to be like the others

it's even why I colored my hair red, you said

well, in the depths I may find you

a few chords in the key of F

carry me to a hammock in a grove of blue jay trees

my own personal meadow enclosed by a fence

making candles by lamplight

cooking meals for one

breaking the day into the house through curtains

the house I thought of as lungs, brain, stomach

chasing ducks for a week at a time

only to welcome a lover with roses.

tracy said "slipstream," and I jolted in obedience

the way you suddenly shift seasons never ceases to amaze me

and with this chill spell loitering in mid-april

I am happy to accept the invitation

and find you again under a new blanket, a new mantle

sing your siren song and pull me into the sea.