you breathe differently down here*

I have come through
high snowy gullies
foraging for warmth

a pressing in my chest
set by an unfamiliar
altitude lifts as I descend

to walk barefoot
among broken shells
in washing waves.

A salty mist settles
against my skin,
even the air is saline.

A white-belly moon
reflects the expanding
ripples of skipped pebbles

for a brief moment
before a rolling swell
reels them under.

December 30, 2006
*title from Diving Into the Wreck by Adrienne Rich

Leah's Well

I watch her release and draw again,
scattering sand down wet walls
as she leans over mortared stones
as far as she can reach,

a dark rope wrings
through the pulley wheel,
slips on drips and damps
her palms as she pulls

and strains at the weight,
the twisted twine is frayed
and when it snaps perhaps

then I will understand
what thirst goes unquenched
by a bucket never tipped.

treasure valley on display

the sky has been robbed
of the strings of black pearls
that unlatched in early fall

winging their way south
with transitory calls
and constantly shifting vees

a persistent drizzle damps
cottonwoods along the banks
of the Boise and ground fog

rises between desert sage
as warmth wanes in a sunset
of chilled champagne

snow goads antelope
from craggy gullies
to graze the wild grasses

still abundant along I-84
and dusky light rays chisel
living sandstone statues

I did not want you to miss
this. When shadows shift
everything is rearranged.

snapdragon

I am simple, pale petals and sturdy stem
tucked between stargazers and amethyst temples,
tangled among moss roses and morning glory.

He comes to our bed with a tender’s touch;
without bruising or uprooting, his hands
enclose my blossom and gently press me open.

exactly the gray

Everything about this morning is gray;
the mountains are charcoal etchings
scribbled across a confederate canvas,

even the mist rising off the river is hazy
and dull. Naked branches raise stark
limbs, sway and bow in the wind

like Pentecostal repenters
in a tent revival meeting.
The color has drained from the sky,

and the sun hovers overhead
a dry white wafer swallowed
by a thick cloak of cloud.

Traffic is slow, it's always this way
the first day it snows and mom
is on my cell saying she prays for me.

lalli's lullaby

don't you cry, baby mine, don't you weep
rock-a-by, close your eyes go to sleep
as you dream, i'll be near all through the night
when you wake, i'll be here to hold you tight
rock-a-by, close your eyes, go to sleep

don't you cry, baby mine, don't you weep
angels watch over you as you sleep
stars that shine are their light in the darkest sky
now go see stars that fly in a lullaby
angels watch over you as you sleep

*a lullaby for my babies