Stars in the Stone

Rainwater caught in the fold of a leaf
I blow on the surface
Just a small wish
Remember
What unseen thing blows wishes across my surface?
Something left stars in this stone
I found them this afternoon
In the light coming down off the hill
Dark in the quartz
Remember
Honeybee murmel
Just the right tone to
Open
The flower
To open hope

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Almanac

In the new almanac
Everything can be something else
We remake the rolling pin
The colors of the hours
Bring rosebuds indoors
The hinoki
Smoke of praying
What do we know these days
About the old incantations of this hill?
Scattered as it is with the transplanted and impractical
With the bird sown
And the unfamiliar berries
But there
Along the fence line
A Native grape
Raises a fisted leaf
Then spreads it wide
Can you listen?
Are you listening?

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A Pattern of Window Frames

Amazing what I can’t see from this window
The pagan hare
The woman sleeping on the sidewalk
The snagged breathing
A fever
The daffodils are coming up in the front yard
Light changing
The wheel of the year is a bread roll
Quartered with ceremony
Any day now
We are a blanket
A community
We are a blanket that we imagine that we
Crawl under
That we use to cover our faces
That we keep stitching
That we wrap around the dying
A blanket
With a pattern of window frames
With a pattern of noses pressed to glass
We are a relentless marathon emergency
A long-playing emergency

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