There’s a deep hush now, on my exit.All that’s left is the faint raspingof trombone slides and music stands,the rustling of a breathless orchestra under our feetThe house lights dim to twilightand the velvet curtain skims the stagewhile stage-hands dressed in shadowssilently dismantle the scene.I am winded in the wings.The buzzing inside my head is … Continue reading Paris, 1867
Category: Poetry
(New) Arrival(s)
To be labeled as a new arrival,in maternity wards, at baggage claims, a shop’s window display,softly pink and weary travels and small paper tags.To be born, to be delivered, to be bought and to be sold. Or perhaps it’s a Christmas gift wrapped in shiny red paperand safely tucked under an aluminum tree.Another trinket, another … Continue reading (New) Arrival(s)
Arabesque, the Best
She places her hand upon the barre, lithe muscles and sharp mind reviewing her senior repertoire. Her teacher says she’ll go far. A stretch of powder pink satin scratches her skin and a bandage has started to peel from her shin. Her teacher says she’ll go far. Though broken toes are taped together, unyielding to … Continue reading Arabesque, the Best
November, Before the Morning After
Bare and broken branches litter the groundand the smell of heavy, wet and earth hangs overhead.Small girls in flannel nightshirts are crownedby halos of sweat-damp curls as they dream in bed.A dying autumn breeze now slips through the forest,through the wind-whipped oaks and elms and pine,and scatters leaves across the pavement before usas you slip … Continue reading November, Before the Morning After
Cabbage Patch
I remember when I was small, and blonde and quiet and all the other things I forgot how to be, I would wrap my arms around a baby doll, hug her to my chest and whisper in her plastic ear, “I love you, Maddie.” I would chew on her cloth fingers and draw on her … Continue reading Cabbage Patch