I like the way the stars seem to come out one at a time. Then all at once. The feeling of being outside looking in. Geese in flight,...

We might, on some ordinary day…take for granted how beholden we are to the seasons and the countenance of each day and night. But you can...

Nothing moves, not yet. The gusting wind we’ve all been warned of has not shown its face. The news and the sky, the spaces between...

What do you want when you reach the end of wanting? Something warm and soft to match your breath to? Not sharp edges and restless sleep....

That my racing mind could keep the pace of the electricity moving in my veins. Gathering moments whole like threads to be woven into each...

What does it mean to move; to be moved? Where do we come from? But where does that come from? To be made up of atoms...beams of light and...

Equal parts hopeless romance and cynical disdain. Equal parts wanting to wrap myself around you, and to stay this far away. Equal parts...

The very beginning, barely beginning... rocking toward the source. One foot on either side of the precipice. Invisible thresholds. We are...

The cutlery that lives under the bed in the scarred wooden box with one broken hinge. Worn red velvet inside of its case, is on this...

Why is it, do you think...that we don’t know how to say what we mean? I don’t care about climate change. Climates change. But I do care...

Making landfall. That first contact. The discovery of a new world. Our first steps onto wild earth. You breathe me in like the first...

Traveling forward and back. A year ago to the day. The ice is singing. Or crying. Or just lamenting in clear tones to no one in...

I’ve been having nightmares, the kind that shake you awake soaked in sweat. The kind that make you forget where you are, but not what you...

The first time you called while I was in the room, I felt her race past me to get to you. And I won’t forget. Cradled in her daughter's...

Lined now, still the envy of the crows and the mockingbirds. Weighed down by stones wound tightly in gold and silver. Tapping the hard...

First nightfall draws first blood. A New Year is nothing new to her, but the poetry in this is too obvious to pass by. So she draws this...

Just there. That great wide moon sliding through the dusty pink sky toward the horizon Toward the foothills. And my heart skips a beat. 6...

She wakes me out of a heavy sleep, the earliest darkest hours of the morning. Placing her head on the pillow beside me, though she does...

Every 29 and a half days, marking the start of the lunar cycle. We are plunged into darkness, and in the darkness, things begin to line...

My mother worries. She can’t help but want to pull us back into the nest. But we aren’t baby birds. We are shape shifters born to...