"Dazzle Gradually" 2017 poems, paintings, new art & photography--a diary, a discipline, a delight. Read over my shoulder as I post my unedited poetry ---you can see it in the raw or get my first book and see how the work evolves with new books rolling out next year.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
I remember her sugar cookies and the smell of the metal bowl, the coldness of the plate cover and the promising lump within-- the oily smell of the colored sprinkles and the
prize of the candied silver balls
two escaped-- one in my mouth and one of the floor. I see her hand as we move the ginger bread man together. Her hand over mine until it arrives safely on the baking sheet.
And when I see his face on my kitchen counter
I hear him say he will run away as fast as he can--
only it is in her waggling, serious story voice.
I dream she has run away and she has been pretending all the time. She can run perfectly, even ride a bike.
When I wake up, she is gone-- in an ambulance
with silver wheels.
And there among the emergency rooms we give her water
out of a straw onto her mouth. She is a featherless fledgling.