she grew to manhood

Wizards and warriors flew through her head
Sugarplums and princesses far far away
and long ago
she stood strong with her fleet, her army
solidly on two feet, the whole foot engaged with the ground
the days behind her had made the girl she was
into the man she is
there was a time for sweet, pink things
the season of assertion and confidence had come

This reads a bit too much like male = strong. It's not so much what I mean, but the images of male/strength & girl/sensitive are lodged in my head. I am making it a goal now to play with how that works, both in life & in language.

seasonal poems

spring

I shed three teardrops on the dead earth
A tree blooms
Grey fades and parts its curtain
Vibrance
Unlocked: it is the world
Barefoot leaps across the wild plain
Drumbeats and heartbeats
Full breath, full sigh
I live again


summer

Pregnant trees and dark, deep oceans
Yellow sun burns
Floating out past the day
Caressed
The senses unlocked and mad with sensation
I am infinite.


fall

Brown, red, and gold
delicately float on the breeze
Balance precariously on my
head, shoulder, foot
The gentlest movement
continues the journey down
Crumpled siblings reunite
underfoot
I dance to their song


winter

My head a grey of snow
Dormant trees tap at my door
Their long fingers
Begging away the cold
I hide beneath the blankets

I wrote these for my family. They were going to be Christmas gifts. I was going to take pictures of each season in New York and make a collage with the poem in a frame or shadowbox. Time got away from me that year, and they all ended up with books.