poem for a hurting robin// 14nov2021

it is hard to leave this eggshell
this lightfilled nest
where you,
only occasionally- rest
a tired head,
a less tired heart
and oh-so-tired body
I want to gather your wings,
your human heavy bones,
your weary smile
want to gather them,
watch over them
Hold them tightly enough
to take away the pain-

But that I can not do
Pain of your heart I can-
sometimes-
kiss away,
But not the sinews and tissues
and cords of muscles-
these human heavy pieces of you.
I am sorry, my love.

All I can do is hover,
guard,
Watch your sleeping form
Hope.
Hope that you wake with a smile a
little less
weary, a little less pained.
one as light as this
Glowing.
Hopeful.
Unfeathered -eggshell of a
humaned, healing-
nest.

 a love poem // september 2021

I think I adore you
more
when it’s raining,
if that’s possible.
Feel like our boat
Is alone in the deepsea
Seadeep, so many ports
our threads held - some time only -
by phone lines and pixels.

Perhaps we do it better
When we don’t breath the same air
But here I am
With my hourly dose of gut-aching laughter
Looking, drinking, looking -
You.
You fill me with such rootbound, giddy
Delight.
Both things -
low notes and high.

you make everything better.

This rainy day.
Steeped in adoring.

 Re-leaf // sept 2021

Sitting amidst a million leaves
(Re-leaf)
Amidst a september newspring leafing
(Re-leaf, Re-leaf)
We were two billion in 1937, four billion in ‘73
(Re-leaf, Re-leaf)
We are a leafspan away from eight
(Re-leaf)
Now. Such sour and sweet grief.
(Re-leaf, Re-leaf)
Thinking about the hurt we do
the hurt we do, knowing
(Re-leaf, Re-leaf)
The hurt we do un-knowing
willing, un-willing
Sitting amidst the leaves
Leaving, leafing
Un-leaving
(Re-leaf, Re-leaf)

Sitting with all the seasons of my grief
Needing to
(Re-leaf, Re-leaf)
growing
Sitting amidst a million, billion stars
Leaves, together, apart
Folding and re-folding parts of the heart
(Re-leaf, Re-leaf)
Relief, relief
Sitting with unknowing.
Re-leaf.