Everything Sweetens

Nothing to do
Between now and tomorrow.
We’re high on life, drunk on sunset,
Her orange wine through dark green pine
This evening, a slowly ripening peach:
pink… red… purple… blue-black.
Everything sweetens into something else.





Summer Salute

Though evenings thicken earlier each day,
And cold chutes down the drapes to pool in rooms,

Summer’s heat is baked into our bones,
And her beauty raked into late blooms.

Down below to Capricorn she goes,
From now and on brazen-cold wind blows.
We slow our autumn dance to the new beats,
and splash our chilly feet in flannel sheets







(Celebrating the completion of my first long-form foray,
a meditation on how to live called Fear & Flow)


There’s nothing like completion,
dishes done and dried,
last nail driven into floor of your first house.
Our trips to the hardware store are but a speck
in my rear view mirror.

Come, let’s sit in the house we built,
let’s sip coffee from cups chipped from living.



Summer Project

Dear Reader,

This summer, instead of posting poems, I’m undertaking a project called Shapes of Women on my collaborative art blog:

Shapes of Women Project

“As a custodian for the soul passed down through your mothers, you might make it a little easier for it this time around. Treat it nicely, because it’s had a hard time. This is the first time in generations it can rest, or decide with true liberty what it will to do. So why not treat it with real tenderness? It has been through so much already— why not let it rest?” Sheila Heti

Thanks for your comments and likes over my first year on WordPress. Blogging need not be a lonely endeavour; it is implicitly a group collaboration. And you have made it enjoyable and rewarding.