Ancient rocks, ancient like glaciation, tumbled through centuries and through time, and etched their way into the earth. The wind sounded like water, like waves, pushing though leaves of the highest trees, waving above and so below, all around me. A bird repeated a stanza, its song hollow, echoing. you give me steps to climb … Continue reading Answers
poetry
New spaces
I remind myself you live in my body. My right palm placed above my left breast, on my chest where your love lives you bring me back into my body I used to avoid these spaces, the places my body blocked itself locked itself from feeling "She keeps her head in the clouds", they said … Continue reading New spaces
What the wind wants
What the wind wants ties me to spirit, brushing past my ears she takes me aside wrapping my shoulders in a shawl, yarn spun with cloud, she cooes towards me "show them", you have something they want." wondering through air, kicking up dirt, I ask the trees for advice what must I do for the … Continue reading What the wind wants
Bone writing
Fingers like twisted branches reach for a pen to write about the lines that fold around her gnarled knuckles dry with age from holding onto stories too long her forearms rest heavy on the smooth white pages of bark as she writes her story with ink made of dirt; lines of language.
Home-ing
Home is where you always are no matter what the weather or who the bartender is. Home is always inside you; you don’t need an apartment but you’ll be more comfortable that way. Look for your skeleton keys (you dropped them on the driveway) and pull away the curtain so your shadow can see the … Continue reading Home-ing
Angela Mason 