31 October 2009

The Unfinished Marker

Deep on Chameleon Street
beneath a canopy of trees
children free dandelion seeds
in a fierce stampede of feet.
The little parachutes mirror dust
that bedecks the air.

Steel songs ring from
a chisel’s slippery slope and
collide with the liquid trill
of two wood thrush volleying
a back and forth dance
of voice blending into din.

White flecks fling as a steel point
uncovers an angel hidden in stone.
Up, from alabaster flesh it rises.
One eye surveys the tapestry it joins
to commemorate the soldiers
who pain our nation's soul.

Its wings linger inside calcite
waiting to be chiseled into being.

oneword #1 arrow

oneword.com offers an opportunity for immediate web publication of short written work.  Each day the website provides a word.  The instruction is to write for one minute, put a name to your post, and submit.  After submission, your post, and all others appear. 

Last night Len and I watched Woody Allen's Match Point with the classicly beautiful Scarlett Johansson.  In the movie, Allen creatively re-invents Dostoeyevski's Crime and Punishment.  The viewing of the film, and perhaps the macabre nature of Halloween may have inspired my response to today's word:  Arrow. 


I shot an arrow in her heart
to make her love me.

Red spread through the broad
blue and white stripes
of her t shirt
and I thought of the Flag.

She will never love me now.
God Bless America

Bled out in an empty lot--
she's dead.

10 October 2009

a dark flower falling

Her feet, wet from wading,
leave a trail of black blossoms
as she runs.
Curls cascade from her shoulders
and catch the sun,
mimicking the fecund petals
that furl at her feet.

Skipping in curlicues,
she creates a genius floral motif of paths,
curious crop circles
flirted out from her feet.
At the center point of design
she seems to stop in time.
With sighs in her eyes,
she stares up at the sky.

Passersby pick up petals
that wither in their hands.
A whispering child
tugs on his mother’s coat,
There’s the lady whose husband
got dropped in the lake!
Mommy, Look!
The woman yanks him forward
to hasten their escape. 
The boy rubs dead flower flesh
from his fingers, and turns to look back.
The lady lingers.


The moment her husband surfaced,
dark flowers began flowing forth from her feet.

Dark flowers fall
when she walks
on the land
that binds his sky
to this earth.

Dark flowers fall
when she runs
out into the lake
that swallowed him whole.

Dark flowers fall
each time she dances
to erase the look on his face,
the instant
his glider collapsed—
-right before his spiraling descent
through the shell
of the bay.

Watching from above,
she saw
his crumpled
fetal form
as it sunk
a dark flower
beneath the glider’s
colorful carnage.


I created this video in response to an assignment in Mr. Davey's 8th grade English class.