passenger window
with his nose sticking out
Volkswagen beagle
so far away
I can barely see
the star
in the night
of his eyes
as long as I can
underneath the tree
listening to different songs
of different birds
until I get on the bus
and fly off down the road
when I wanted
to be the sun and everyone
told me that I could
only ever be the rain
and to get back to
watering the flowers
she keeps telling me
how cold she is
in that voice of hers
that holds up the sun and
puts the wind back to sleep
listening to an angry sky
with nothing to say
but rain
running
until I
become
the light
of day
half the day gone
walking tree to tree
as the crow flies
just to find this kiss
we left by the river
pigeon or angel
I keep the feather
anyways
seashells filled
with rainwater
nothing is ever
the ocean
I think it is
park bench
wishing the snow
would turn to rain
and the trees
had more to say
sunset the color
of your lipstick
the first time we kissed
and you stayed with me
to watch the sunrise
when I didn't know
where I belonged
California gull
chasing his shadow
across the desert
the sparrow
who never thought
himself any more
than sunlight flitting
branch to branch
outside
the cat's chair empty
and filled with snow
underneath
the parked cars
quiet sphinxes
watching the snow
cover the lot
walking down
an old dirt road
and I swear it's you
but it's just a crow
and I'm almost home
I start
to type out this daydream
but I backspace
until all that's left
is the first letter
of your name
old coyote
sings one last song
to a freight train
pulling a trail of stars
across a bright sky
I watch the sun
fly out of a pine tree
without ever once
looking back
winter robin
thinking he came back
way too early
and I stayed
way too long
robin in the snow
this fickle romance
the snow and I have
February
the blurred photo
of a sparrow I heard
with such clarity
the crow I disturbed
rubbing his wings
on the day moon
winter dusk
the moon's apology
the sun's redemption
and I the only witness
to this sky filling with stars
ten degrees
the river ice snaps its fingers
to the sunset song
glass dragonfly
in a winter alley
one wing shattered
and streaked with mud
the other catching sun
the way I loved
how you loved
the rain
when we were puppies
and life was just a bone
too big for our mouths
piles of apples
on my grandfather's farm
my brother and I
and a jug of cider
all going bad
that perfect ray of sunlight
I wanted the sun to shine
that would have melted this ice
and turned your heart
into rainwater
the first time
you kissed me
the helium balloon
I let slip from my hand
swaying on the ceiling
empty box of chocolate
I learn to love
myself
first a bite
then a kiss
then another bite
and another kiss
till I can't tell
chocolate from love
little girl at the store
making a song out of
everything I say
the wedding ring
I took off my hand
and threw to the desert
the silence of these junipers
as I walk them each sunrise
arguments
inside and out
one of the crows
on the fence
takes her side
eyes through
the scrub
so careful
not to disturb
my dreaming
dusk
as if
there were
no sparrows
at all