in spring the purslane
pops up underfoot
All articles filed in poetry
corrugated
in winter the cold
corrugates the soul, crumpling
it up like paper
little sister
february turns up soft and
delicate
a time, a time
there is a time to keep,
and a time to throw away:
theatre programs
ticket stubs
dead plants
math tests
little paper houses
in a shoebox somewhere in the closet
are the little paper houses
my glamorous great-aunt
gave my grandma for Christmas
(untitled)
despite my best intentions
how quickly i forget You
don’t liken a lichen
don’t liken a lichen
to a room like a kitchen
unless stonehenge is a mere pile of stones
good and real
i was trying to proceed sensibly
to live logically
to hold tight to what is
good and real
foreliving
in frozen january
i catch myself
longing for spring
a gift from sunny florida
every year at Christmas
my grandfather’s sister
sends him a box of oranges
from Florida — sometimes
grapefruits, too, which he
prepares for us of a morning
with an expert hand