THE ARCHER

An arrow.
Aim. Release.

You will hit or miss

your mark.

Assess the situation 
and try again—

with greater attention.

Bow and string

are designed for

just this

measured action.

Firing more than one 

quill at a time 
will complicate 

the whole affair.
The same principle 

applies when 
it comes to 

the archery 
of the heart.

Patience equals
practice.

NESTING

the shade of an almond tree—

the nest to the nests of redbreasts

the world is like this

it  gives us everything we need

to make it our home,

for us to feel like

we belong here

every day is an assemblage,

an intricate architecture

made from

mud, twigs, and leaves,

human hair and animal fur,

moss, pine needles, and litter, 

dental floss and cob webs,

broom bristles, straw and stem,

pebbles, string, and paper,

and the true glue: spittle

let’s use it all,

and our imagination,

to make our own

place in the shade

MAGICAL REALISM

Every part of the land had curled in on itself.

An amnesia and a sinister sleep slumbered in its roots.

And then, what seemed like centuries later,

one day in March the gypsies came with their music,

their kettledrums and pipes,

and with their spectacular discoveries on display—

ice, magnets, and telescopes—

and their greatest invention of all, Wonder.

Only then did the jungle and the river

that ran through it wake.

Only then did the leaves sing and dance

in praise of their own venation and verdancy.

Only then did the rocks in the riverbed shine 

like quasars remembering the beginning of time.

This vitality was the reality, the magic, 
the land knew as itself. 

Alchemy was its oxygen.

And March was its memory.

RENDEZVOUS

In my mind

I am running

toward a clearing.

The years peel

off me

like scales,

like feathers.

Tall, wide and wise,

stands the tree.

I stop

before it

to touch

the place where

I left the image

I carved as a boy

one birthday

in its rugged

flesh: a heart.

The curves

my pen knife made

have broadened,

deepened

over time.

Standing there

I hear the tree

listening

to the music

in its roots,

and I grow more

into who I am.

belly against the glass

little blonde girl gazing into a coffee shop food case—

adorned in a pink-patterned shirt with cherries,

pink-hearted pants, purple rubber sandals,

and a strawberry Band-Aid on the hand

that now follows the curve of the case.

she lifts her shirt up and presses

the bulge of her belly

against the frosted glass
and begins to hum.