thunderstorms
bring precipitation
to the city
speckling sidewalks with raindrops
refreshing
urbanity
reset from
thunderous bustling streets
as people duck inside
transformed
Photo by Alex Pham via Pexels
Refreshing
two elfchens
Blog Feed
My Words Might Fail
One day, when the moon is in the sky, I will reach out to touch it. I might hope for an embrace that it cannot reciprocate. I might stumble in its light. I might weep. I might struggle to move that insurmountable rock. I might try to replace it with other rock. I might lean against craggy walls, learning what every cliff face looks like from the bottom. I might hurt.
One day, when the sun is in the sky, I will tap my fingers on the dining table. The wood might maintain my prints. It might not. I might stare longingly out the window. My gaze might race to meet the horizon faster than my legs could ever run. I might lie down on the floor. I might rest. I might face my greatest fears. I’m not sure I yet know what those are.
One day, when the moon is in the sky, I might not be there to see it.
featured photo by Dids via Pexels
Planted Firmly
a free verse poem
feet stay planted firmly,
immune to the
meandering beat,
and yet the fingers tap,
the body sways,
betraying the resolute
boots.
Poems and Tweets
I haven’t been very active on this website for the past few months until earlier this week, but I have posted some shorter poems to Twitter in that absence. I wanted to share some of those here.
Smoke and Soot
a free verse poem
Smoke and soot.
A candle left to burn for too long.
A campfire just waiting to become cold.
Unused logs.
Waiting for another winter.
Beige and brown and chopped.
A recently demolished treehouse,
now a childhood memory.
Bonding Time
a free verse poem
We pluck some of the seedling plants to make room for the others, and I tell you my hair has gotten too long.
You disagree.
You tell me that the book without words made you cry, and I tell you, “Me, too,” but without saying anything aloud.
Your hand rests on my thigh just above my knee as I drive. Your touch reminds me of sunshine.
I think I can smell the pulse under your skin. You show me how it’s right beneath the surface.
I make you promise to dance with me in the kitchen.
So many disparate truths build a life and a happy one at that.
I don’t know where to go from here.
You say, “Forward, of course.”
Virtual Connection
a free verse stream of consciousness poem
Virtual connection with nearly ten thousand people—
My ancestors never knew
such kinship and overwhelm.
My body is separated from the laptop
with a thin mustard yellow blanket.
There’s beauty in these human voices.
There’s beauty in these typed out words.
People on my screen or in?
Probably in.
My sweater is warm.
My bare feet are cold.
Outside, the air is nearly still.
Photo by Marta Branco for Pexels
A Sip of Water
a microfiction
The girl stood by the well. The fall air was crisp, surprising. Was it not just yesterday that she had longed for the late night sun of early summer? It always felt like she was waiting for warmth and light or letting it slip from her grasp. Like she never fully had it.
The well was dry. One can only offer water to so many who pass by before reaching the dregs. And it’s not like she could add more, couldn’t bring herself to dip into anyone else’s well and risk taking what they needed. It didn’t work that way. One cannot simply take without invitation. She had to wait for more rain to come and fill it.
She hoped maybe one day, someone would bring a sip of water for her from their own well, but of course she would never venture from her spot as guardian of that-which-once-held-hydration to go ask, and no one knew to bring any to her.
The well was dry. The wind was crisp. The crescent moon still offered light. She stood there in its beam, parched, guarding her empty well.
Head to Toe
a free verse poem
My bed still isn’t pushed up against the wall the way we talked about, but I don’t mind that. What I mind is that it will be half empty tonight and not nearly as warm.
Speaking of mind, I can’t seem to get you off of mine. My brain leans into thoughts of you the way my body might lean into a reassuring hug. I feel embraced and not suffocated by that presence. I didn’t know that was possible.
I remember your arms. I think of how they look reaching, how they look working, how they feel safe.
I used to fantasize about fantastical places and a luxurious life, but this safety is more than enough. In fact, it is what I didn’t know I was searching for. It is everything I ever wanted.
Photo by PNW Production from Pexels
Diamond Lies
a free verse poem
If diamonds form under pressure, then I am not a diamond.
Or maybe I am.
Continue reading “Diamond Lies”
The Yellow Brick Ave 