The Next Life
Sea fog drifting through the pines—
this is the place where marine birds
mix with land fowl;
noisy finches, ravens’ bickering,
and the gulls cry.
A hummingbird thrums less than a foot
from my head—
Here I’m convinced that in this moment I will die
and come back with a better voice.
Windpowered
“There is no enemy”
—Thomas Dolby
“…score one for the timelessness of poetry, the news that stays news.”
—John Gallaher
Here on the coast of a continent slowly grinding—
the sound of mills turning, metal on metal,
violent and clean, rusting with salt air—
powering my heart.
This red fist would lift but for the body
heavy in shadow, nearly iron, nearly …love
lost in the swept sand, the dust, clouds
racing over a nation of seeds
what if I should run and leap?
Throw my hands out like feathers
and catch my ancestors’ spirits— would it be
enough to take me?
The news of the world is dust devil—
spinning and spinning and spitting.
The air soughing over the land whispers
There is no enemy
If I were to release my breath I might shatter
the last window to my ghost.
