sagewort-and-krummholz

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

solvitur ambulando

I am the dog and the one who takes him for a walk. It dulls the inward-facing blade; the blood red sky whets the teeth of my perception. A body in motion, a mind at rest. I am the man and the dog who takes him for a walk.

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

Mäuschen

I'm dreaming it's summer and it's you and me, little mouse

We're above the treeline and the sky's impossibly blue we're laughing and dancing barefoot in the meadow

A pause: nothing but our breathing, a buzzing little bumblebee, the breeze, your smile

Oh, little mouse, I know it's scary (I'm scared, too) but you be brave (I will, too) and together we'll make something beautiful

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

the door's unlocked you can come in if you like but it's cold outside, so I won't be holding it open for you anymore

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

the sun sinks behind the ridge and the clouds turn an unphotographable peach it's time to go

ice crystalline critch cratch echoes in the valley snow glitters like diamond desert sand the stars are hiding in the twilight the cold creeps into my hands

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

so, little cardinal what are you singing about? do you dream of the wind and the trees shrinking below? of sunny perches and happy whistling, chittering, joyful song?

You could fly forever —if you wanted— how could I stop you? But, I wonder, little cardinal, will you let me near you or only hear you sing?

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

when i die, i hope they let me into Deer heaven. A quiet crepuscule, sussurous grasses purple gloaming peeking through yellow leaves and naked branches

Mourning dove sings her lament in the tall cottonwood and when the low, twin moons swallow me in their light it doesn't hurt at all

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

sodium-vapor sun

when i was young i saw pictures of the smog in places like beijing and mumbai and i wondered what it must be like to live somewhere where the air is like smoking a pack of cigarettes

of all the childish wishes to come true it was this one

it may not be news to you that we lost the sun in smoke last summer here. it was like walking under parking-lot lights in the forest, my shadow uncanny and jaundiced

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

"you have to cook the garlic a long time before it's sweet" you didn't mean it as a metaphor, but isn't it such a good one?

it can all feel like fate if you let it, but i'm not so sure i believe in fate so much as chance, circumstance, serendipity, and the choices we make

a low heat for a long time everyone wants the sweetness no one wants the wait

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

masks

how am i to act? i don't know—i never do

i try on this mask, now this one. does this make you laugh? or maybe this?

is this opinion safe? can i be myself? do i know who that is?

what can i tell you? what can i share? can i be vulnerable?

or must the mask become a wall?

i'll build a new mask— a custom fit— cut and assembled from the pieces of all the others

i hope you like this one i made it just for you

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

i think too much i write to empty my mind

is this what it is to be a writer?

i feel too much i fill the page to empty my heart

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

they found a cave full of crystals bigger than any anyone had ever seen

how many other such wonders have we destroyed because there was profit in it?

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

how many times have i heard you speak? i don't even know your face

no, truly. i know nothing of you and yet your disembodied voice rings through my empty apartment

an intimacy few have earned granted without thought to a stranger

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

a ghost story

i'd never been so haunted as i was in that old house. we thought there might truly be ghosts living beside us

grief—so raw i knew not its true name, only the many other faces it wears

why does it always take me years to understand?

this summer i apologized and we put that ghost to rest

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

i'm searching, always, for a reason to stay.

they're all so very tiny, but i don't want to leave

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

locally real

the nobel scientists figured it out, they say

it turns out, we're all only real in relation to each other

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

what to do with a key to a lock that no longer exists?

throwing it out seems wrong and yet keep it for what?

[sagewort-and-krummholz]

i think i wanted to run away because then no one would know who i was before— the weight of history dropped

but i carry myself everywhere i go they don't know but i do

i imagined myself a snake shedding its skin, but sloughing isn't metamorphosis