This is Seasonal

Winter is charlie brown trees, humble piano
and dinners with old friends.
Sometimes I wish that things just didn’t
join up so nicely –
the ends of life touch
and there’s no escaping yourself,
especially during the holiday season
when we are locked together
in spiced rum and chocolate
talking about ten years ago --
yeah it makes you sad, but Christ, we had fun.

Happiness and cheer is all minor keys
and smoke lifts in blue swirls while
the snow falls in white ones,
a full belly and an extra 5 to 10 pounds –
please tell me not to be so hard on myself.

V for Vote

The Chateau

The Winter Garden comes to Surrey

Mid March through April Being Best for Planting

I am longing to dance
in a hall where young womyn have
hair wrapped brown and black
in ribbons and the
music is sharp sharp
with click click
of booted heels
belt buckles clack together
when the dancers meet in
the middle

old womyn are there too with hair
tied back in gray bunches – wide hips:
they dance with men
whose limbs have brittled,
clothes made of cotton for better breath
and movement

But those places are country places

and here

we forget/forgo the things
which keep our feet so close
to the ground
I forget how to blush/flushed cheeks
in the small white twinkle lights
of a country dance with feet shuffling
and heels clicking to the suck suck
in of breath and sheepish adolescent love
which shirks through a field of corn,

harvest moons hang low
and neil young is so circa 1980

this is moses

I know blogging about your cat is pretty lame, but c'mon, this is gold. What a rat face.

jammaker

who remembers how to jar
peaches and jams and all the
sweet summer things that stick
in your hair

i want to be the jammaker –
followed by bees in the
blackberry season
when mason jars bump together
in the warming pot (clink)

the kitchen is filled with fruit sweet heat
and the thin zipping sound
of tin seals spinning against glass –
while people walk in and out,
strawberries between fingers
and bees in the turbine of their paths

Dezenber