le fin de septembre

je ne sais pas quoi dire.
tu es la.
je suis ici.
voila, c'est mon coeur.
il ne peut pas vivre sans toi.
et moi, je ne veux pas respirer sans toi.
c'est impossible te voir.
simplement impossible.
tampis.
je veux te dire au revoir,
mais je sais que je ne te reverrai.
c'est le fin.


(je sais que mon francais n'est pas parfait, mais je voulais ecrire un petit peu en francais.)

a found poem (magazine phrases)

your dreams miss you.
Before you live without power, Buy another book.
A SPECIAL PLACE: A reading room.
We can get peace so sweet on the beach.
I am strong!

I STAY AFLOAT.

I felt the most spectacular rain and rock and sea.
I'M GIVING BACK.

ode to the leaves i love

color.
it's shading the leaves.
some still hold their summer hue.
while others have lost their grip.
they've dropped to the ground.
back to the soil from which they sprung.
fall.

Poem

Walking alone
down a dull yellow streetlamp lit street
praying for an angel
to bring deliverance,
or at least a car,
as I walk from corner to corner,
to lift me up into the cooling night air
and set me down in the soft wet grass
to rest.

jumping

I’m jumping over the moon with the cow. I’ve forgotten how to let myself cry and this hurtle into space has startled my tears into jolting out—a mini-flood. I’ve no need to wipe them away; rushing through the air pushes them down my cheeks and they’ve dried before even reaching my chin. ‘Tis a pity we don’t halt and come to rest atop the moon’s surface. It’s just an arch, up and over, and we’re earthbound. I want to land in the ocean but the cow has a slight aversion to salt water; she much prefers soft fields of clover. I let her have her way because she’s the one who invited me along for the ride. I really have no say. Coming back down through the clouds is more magical than half-seeing billowed vapors from an airplane window. The mists wrap round my fingers and curl my hair. We begin to slow and I realize somewhere along the way my tears have evaporated completely. The dawning sun rises, and I’m on my back looking up for the fading moon while the cow takes her first bite of breakfast.