Spring 2021



What are the words for the wind on a wing
or the sea on a mermaid’s tail?
And what of the music that moonlight brings
or the squeeze of a shell on a snail?

The names that we know by necessity grow
the space between names we know not
And who is the author of language to show
the path to the world we forgot?


From The Space Between Names


Summer 2021



Anywhere the sea’s still blue

you may find her watching 

lost among the architecture 

of shifting waves and seabirds

a vastness built from uncertain lines

like the narrow strip of sand 

that buys her time

from inevitable reunion.


Beside her

a bustling blue girl squats

diminutive in ocean math

this relic of the second day

scuttles like a sand crab 

building ziggurats.


And in the space between them

a tiny wind-bled voice calls out:

“Mother, those naughty men of clay

are due their lesson!”


Mother frowns

then smiles brightly

she glances coyly at the mounds

and delivers a tremendous kick—

the earthen village flies

100 miles.


Her daughter laughs 

and rising now

she wraps the sky around her mother

who unfolds herself 


into the sea. 


From the volume in progress, as yet unnamed