

Back into Nature
I watch a rabbit eat its last meal whole
The vines choke a line of trees to death
I sigh and close my eyes and dream till I am dole
Leaves tickle my feet as they rush into the air
A zephyr gently smooths down the trees’ hairs and braids them one by one
A fire of emerald green, egg yolk yellow, and scarlet red bursts into lovely flames
I gaze dreamily into space, thinking of nothing
Suddenly, a deer steps out into the glade
I snap back into reality and stare at it in awe
It instantly freezes into a marble statue and eyes me warily
The sound of a gunshot pierces the air
Quickly, the deer darts to the other side of the forest
I sigh—I have never stood face to face with a deer for more than two minutes
Feeling ever so rejuvenated, I stretch out my arms and embrace all that is nature
I take in a huge gulp of air and breathe out, listening to the humming of my body
The only predator that I have to fear is time
I have one precious hour that I can step out of my shell
and let burst the poetic and stubborn side of me
The only hour that I cease to be another person
Distantly, I hear the drumming of a woodpecker—keeping time.
Ode to a Big Baby
So why do you cry?
And why do you drool?
You play with a fly.
And sometimes you’re blue.
Why are you shy?
Why talk like a fool?
Sometimes you say “Bye.”
And you say you rule.
Rule what? The sky?
Why do you act cool?
Put down that pie!
And stop crawling onto that stool!
Oh stop blinking your eye!
I won’t give you a tool!
Great, I have to buy
Some diapers and be your mule.
Ugh, I have to try
So you don’t fall into a pool
Or pucker your lip to cry
Yes, I am a fool.
Foolish to treat you as my
Prince. No, I don’t want your rule
The end of your reign draws nigh
So don’t act so cool.
It’s now my turn to say “Bye.”
I won’t miss your drool
And your castle’s waters I won’t ply
Cuz I’m goin’ away from your rule
Red Dress
Light floods into the room
A girl wearing a white dress
Waltzes in
She grabs a glass of tomato juice
And splatter!
Her dress bleeds
The stain grows
Until a puddle circles around her feet
She screams for her mother to come
She is dying
Her new dress is ruined
Despite how thoroughly
Her mother cleans her up
It is futile
A stain the size of a hand
Is emblazoned on her dress—permanently
True Reality
“Nature’s first green is gold”
A gold that scatters about
And hides beneath the brown
Or writhes around trees’ crowns
Mist drapes tentatively around emaciated tree branches
Citadels all around me—
Standing guard, guarding the
Door of Death until that day sweeps in
Fallen logs sleep on the ground
While squirrels seek to disturb their rest
Golden seashells ornament the feet of Neptune
And with each gentle motion, four more kiss his soles
A hidden trail greets my eyes and I
Choose to leave this golden dream
To seek my own reality
Winter Greetings
The snow drifts down like angels
While people sleep in their cozy beds
Somewhere, a dog barks
Its howl is carried by
The angry wind
And then dies down
When the wind suffocates it
Angels continue to descend from the sky
And form mounds shaped like whipped cream
The black elms tower in the sky
With white frosting on their bare arms
In the distance,
Some cars moan about the stress
Of navigating in this “storm”
No,
It is much more tranquil and beautiful
Than a storm
It is greetings from winter
Waiting
Tonight the stars wink at each other
While the ocean rolls around
Restless and waiting for
Something dramatic to happen
Above the blue-gray waters
Sits a grandmotherly moon, casting her light
On the ocean and the line of trees far away
Suddenly clouds chase each other
The sky darkens to a charcoal gray
And the waves swell agitatedly
Thunder growls, calling for rain to come
Flashes of lightning decorate the sky
While the pouring rain
Half-drowns the island
Soon the rain turns to a drizzle
The sea finally calms down
And somewhere above
The moonlight creates a rainbow
Captured Dandelions
I found them for the first time in my own backyard
They looked like slovenly-dressed dance models
Their white, puffy heads were what attracted me
“If you make a wish and blow the dandelion’s seeds, the wish will come true,” a friend had once told me.
So, I grabbed all of the dance models, just to satisfy my childhood greed, and
made seven wishes
The magical wishes weren’t grand but they did capture my need for intelligence and influence.
After committing such a praiseworthy deed,
I came back to the dandelions day after day
I loved them so much that I buried them inside of my heart
I even imagined them as my “lovely dolls,” thinking how they would appear if they were dressed in lavish clothing.
One day, the friend came to visit me and I excitedly invited her to look at my treasures that waited,
Sticking their necks out and peering at us
And I was so afraid that their pretty necks would break
But, my “friend” said contemptuously, “Who plays with these? Dandelions are not magic. Get rid of them.”
Inside, a part of my soul, my childhood desires deserted me
Yet, I looked at the dandelions, swaying in the wind and it was as if my heart was swayed in the same rhythm
I couldn’t part with them, not yet.
But I kept that part a secret.
Seeping Away
Forgetfulness
Even that one word triggers lost memories
Like your great-great-grandpapa’s name
Like the smell of salty sandwich pickles
Like that embarrassing outfit you wore to school
Forgetfulness
Is the mist that snakes around the mountain
Is Fido’s quiet lapping of water
Is the sticky lollipop left too long on the kitchen counter
Forgetfulness
Comes like spring rain
Riding on a speeding train
Ensnares the memories--bitter, sweet--like a fishing net
And drops them
One by
One
Into black rivers
I wade into the water
Seeking for the pieces of me
Before I get too old
Before I forget what it’s like to remember
Summer Woods
A deer darts away from the bushes while a rabbit hides in the thick undergrowth
Resting on a fallen log a bird chirps lazily
Deeper in the woods a brook snakes through
A single petal drifts on the water
Wild juicy berries hang
Like multicolored earrings on shrubbery
In the clearing voices chatter
A twig snaps heads turn sharply
A raccoon stands there blinks its mascara-like eyes
And flees hastily
Out of nowhere a gust of wind pokes its head
Through the skeletal branches and blows the intruders swiftly home
All Broken
Back bent
Muscles tense
Fingers that close around the cotton
Cotton that sleeps despite
The glare of the sun
The rain’s angry stomps
Wash all the corn away
You helplessly try to rein in
The last remaining stalks
Tomorrow is market day
The center of your palm
Is flicked open by
The unrelenting snow and the cutting knife
There is no salve for now
The only salve is enough food to put on the table
There is no field work today
The rain is doing your work
Stallions of droplets smear away the topsoil and the apple-green scallions
All is not lost you hope because the rain will hide away again
But who will understand your pain?