Hummingbird (3)

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Hummingbird (3)

Arriving from nowhere,
its mouth opens

but what escapes
comes not from within

and is never complete.
Words, too, falter

in this space,
struggling to remain

aloft, challenged yet free,
an exchange

between air and wing,
of sound and thought,

occurring as it must
without design

or desire, simply
there, then gone,

a presence one notices
in its absence.

 

* * *

“Hummingbird (3) made its first appearance  on the blog in December 2014.

words

 

And to Sleep

 

And to Sleep

and what we
sense if not
of our selves

or within this
space we contain
may be of

no thing touched
by one’s fluttering
eye as if

awake we see
even less the
dreams of course

real though we
hold them only
in our sleep

 

Another poem from the 80s. “And to Sleep” first appeared here in February 2015.

The Green Light’s National Poetry Month Celebration

 

The Green Light has put up the collected works from their National Poetry Month celebration. .My poem “Houston” appeared on April 4th. Many thanks to editors Caitlin and Ash for taking this piece!

 

 

Chilled Soba

Chilled Soba

I am not
philosophical
today,

but hunger
concerns me.
Oh, not

real hunger
but a desire
to consume.

Afternoon
chews morning.
Evening

swallows afternoon.
Morning digests
night. And I,

slurping chilled
soba with
pickled ginger

and scallion,
wonder which verb
my days will choose.

 

 

“Chilled Soba,” first appeared in Kikwetu: A Journal of East African Literature in November 2018. I am grateful to the editors for accepting my poem.

 

 

The Shadow Behind You

  

The Shadow Behind You

That moment, spent. And another.
This goes on for hours,

days, metal pails filled with condensate,
emptied onto the parched soil
and sucked away within minutes.

What stares back at that precise second?

A void forms flesh, becomes a vessel
tumbled into the darkest rectangle,
leaving no evidence behind.

Our natures, revealed in absentia.

The dog barks at his reflection,
never thinking to examine himself,

while you stoop under the weight
of the tethered black, adjusting

your conscience, killing time.

 

* * *

“The Shadow Behind You” first appeared in Issue 125 of Right Hand PointingThank you to editors Dale Wisely, Laura M. Kaminski, F. John Sharp and José Angel Araguz for taking this piece.

 

Self-Portrait as Border

 

Self-Portrait as Border

Some rivers shift course, but
I stand firm, a nexus of rejection,
that line denoting separation of north
and good, evil and south, dark and
white. Welcoming no one, I stand
guard, opposing all with my flag
of diminishment. Squint, and you
still can’t see me. Your bare feet
won’t stir my dust. I am nowhere,
but remain here — that feeling of
prideful despair, strong, resolute,
inflexible foe to all who dare cross.

 

“Self-Portrait as Border” first appeared in October 2018 in Minute Magazine. Many thanks to the editors for taking my poem.