exiles child

Poems

For animals in the wild, spring can be a time of famine; winter nuts and seeds are growing scarce, and summer abundance is yet to come.

Sparrows in April
winter coats almost gone
pecking at promises

I dream of sailing
on the keen edge of winter
into summer swells

Migraine erupting
bright, bright daggers are piercing
kaleidoscope eyes

Does it bother you,
my dear friend, the persistent
cry of the cicada?

March
wringing warmth
from the sky