Poetry
Eight moons encircled us in the night sky above
As I stood in the heart of a familiar forest.
Every pearl slowly revealed herself after the last,
Clear yet veiled by a familiar mystic design.
The radiance of a boiling star passed as she spoke,
“true wisdom lies beneath the illusion of distinctions”.
We awoke in the luminous shade of Crescent street,
I could not find the moon for she became me.
From my newest series She Dreamed of Eight Moons (Purchase prints here)
Print available for purchase here
A crow landed onto a knot of loosely hanging wires,
his head cunningly in search of the mother.
Seeing no one, he darts into the tiny makeshift nest
tucked between an apartment window and rusted security bars.
The innocent white egg stands out against the thief’s black coat
as he flies through the twilight, noticeably conscious of his guilt.
The mother returns, still as a just-shattered heirloom
before collecting her pieces to race out in the direction of the crow.
Print available for purchase here
We shared a joint in the alley next to mine
It was late and there was a quiet breeze
I named him a star and he called me the moon
Never will I not believe
That love is found in little things
