Sparks

From the ruined house at the end of the dirt road, he came out of the dark to our campfire. We roasted marshmellows, pulling the tender brown from the soft white center. Colors exploded, showering sparks down over the lake. That fourth of July he…

Hour #7 – Resurrection Fern

Pleopeltis polypodioides (syn. Polypodium polypodioides), also known as the resurrection fern, is a species of creeping, coarse-textured fern native to the Americas and Africa. They braided seeds into their hair not for show, but hidden, not to be discovered, bringing homeland with them boarding ships they knew nothing of crossing oceans never to return Memories…

The Itinerant Beautifier

Open, close, glide, slip, slide, flit, carried along with the trade winds, from South America to the U.S., meandering descent, alight, rest, sniff, close wings. Scent, sweet, nectar, delicious intent, probing with a proboscis, whether orange or flower, sliced or whole, honey or raw sugar…

Detroit Summers

We spent sunny summer Saturdays in our grandparent’s yard. Squeezed into the swing under the apple tree, we rode the magic carpet to adventures, barely escaping monsters lurching towards us down the dirt path. “Geni of the magic carpet, go, go, go!” We bridled our…

Lois

Everything I know of me I know because of you.  Without your love, my existence wouldn’t have a clue.  My literal identity is bridged inside your smile.  My heart reaches through eternity, connecting through the miles. Thank you for being the one to teach me…

Hour 14

I’ve been peculating the parts of you     every evening and storing them   in my soul’s jar   everytime I peek into the jar   The parts of you— diffuse into the gloomy air

Valley of Bones (Hour 11)

VALLEY OF BONES I have stood upon the mountain tops. I have rested upon the wings of soaring eagles, their feathers of silver and gold a celestial pillow. I have lain slain in the valley of bones, death more than a shadow – holding my…

Slave Superstitions

Jump rope twirling Ponytails whirling Jumping singing Voices ringing Step on a crack, break your mother’s back   Black as taboo Down in the bayou Worse than voodoo Hear when they say to you Step on a crack, break your mother’s back   Teardrops no…

Where There Is Light (Hour 9)

WHERE THERE IS LIGHT The constant of time is staggering, bewildering, and heartbreaking. So tonight, I will time to stop. I do not ask, I do not beg, I will it. Just for a moment. Let me sit in the stillness of a void I…

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