hurts you twice,
first as what it was
and then forever
as a thought you carry
and carry
until you let it go.
1.30.2012
1.25.2012
Cleo Williams, 1921-2004
August 17, 1959, 11:37 PM: A 7.5 earthquake hits west of Yellowstone, near Hebgen Lake, triggering a massive landslide that kills 33 people.
God's talking with Cleo again,
like he was that afternoon in '59
at the campground on Hebgen Lake
just before he buried it.
My grandparents, Cleo and Joe,
are driving the kids back to Tacoma
from Iowa. My dad is 14.
This is a creation story.
August 17 takes them to Hebgen Lake.
They make camp. My dad thinks
the fishing looks good.
How does a miracle happen?
I imagine it like this: Cleo, weary but attuned,
steps into a little field of quiet.
A small, clear voice wells up
from the land. It says, "Go."
She believes. She sweeps the family
back out onto the road so that
all that has happened since,
even her passing, can happen.
1.22.2012
1.18.2012
What the Dog Knows
The dog arches backward
onto the grass,
four paws rowing the air.
Ecstasy is realizing
the whole world
will scratch your back
if you just surrender
your silly ideas
about propriety.
1.16.2012
Tin Roof
When the hail comes
I'm a roof, a tin roof,
not pantiled
shingled smooth
or water-sealed.
Damn the rust.
I like the music
hard weather makes.
1.11.2012
Gifts for your journey
A flower,
that you may bloom.
A branch
that you may reach out.
A feather
that you may fly.
A stone
that you may be still.
A leaf
that you may let go
when it's time to let go
and trust in the wind.
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