by heather | Sep 24, 2010 | Poems
A sacred mess, puddle of brilliance and wet dirt, reflecting sun, an inert invitation. Created after rain, it will dry up again as busy winds lick through. Let it erode the rock beneath, sinking deeper with each raging storm, leaching out the acids and the bonds until...
by heather | Sep 24, 2010 | Poems
This constricted voice is not entirely my own – I have the small squeak of the divine as she moves through this mid-life thaw. I have the passionate tears of the dancer who is carried through her shaking by present and distant companions. I am the Tlingit...
