Living the Dream

birdsong dry days
bald-headed cactus sweltering
in brittle bits of sand
where shade eludes scuttling things
searching for a damp place to be

sage sky simmers
over places man will not walk
but to collect medicine
for another heat
on the forehead of a child

leathery leaves turn hard faces
to boney-brindled cattle
and rough-ribbed horses
stumbling hot-brained
around twirling tumbleweed

a wrinkled hand drops tobacco
at hairy roots and offers a song
about water and gratitude
for even a desert
that can hold healing
in a gray un-needy clutch

Tags: Natural Nuances, Poems by Shewolf
No Comments »

In spongy soil, ferns uncurl
their tiny fists at a shadowy streak
of emerald sunshine sifted through pines
that drown out sounds of a nearby stream
that weeps within rich redundant downfall
just below sight, to feed the pungent pearl
splitting soil with medicine leaves’
sharpening scent of spring being seduced
by growing green sigh on forest floor.

Tags: Natural Nuances, Poems by Shewolf
No Comments »

Although I am way beyond child-bearing,
I till soil in preparation for babies’ pursed lips
as much as if I was enriching a womb
and filling breasts with mother’s milk
to appease a wailing hunger.

The breezes speak to me in like ancient voices,
that spoke when time was nigh to knead
a high-bowled belly into spilling supplication
as a gift of gratitude for co-creation’s cause.
I mound hills around fragile fecund seeds
and sip sweet tea on garden’s  porch
beneath the wait of winged things
that want nectar residuals of my new promise.

Sun moves warmly to its highest seat, to spread
an alternate nursemaid warms and bundles
these rare roots that know the feel of my kiss
before I allowed another to take over.
I mourn drooping petals before
you have barely budded and fear your blossoms,
that will spill and I will gather, to hang
in pressed glass on my family wall.

Tags: Natural Nuances, Poems by Shewolf
No Comments »

Taste salt air and touch Universe
ground down into tiny pellets,
each stone a prayer planted by the sea,
rolled through the sanctuary of seaweed
encrusted by colors by collisions with coral.

Here, this is my heart, held in by a sorrow
that slipped to the sea in a rush of flooded fury.
It is stone cold and pressed into palm of the shore.

This shell is curved like a delicate fingernail
of a baby that touches your cheek
to make sure you are still there.

Corroded wood has spent all its stories
and breathed water to hurry its demise.

Smell rush of waves come from some far away
South Pacific Island where palm trees waved
orchid-scented scarves from sultry shores .

Here, joy jostles rung-bell buoys
until they sing their best wishes
for your long and lonely sail home.

Listen to God’s breath, answering our pleas
in repeated whispers that wrap your skin
in sun-kissed warmth for knowing your visit.

This is my hand.   I lead you to eternity
as sea carves names of our beloveds
in sand-washed stretches of forever.

Tags: Natural Nuances, Poems by Shewolf
No Comments »

Where did Spring go?

She wandered out on the cusp of winter,
got swallowed up by a crusty lip
while she was looking for crocuses.

I see her muddy footprints
frozen in cold bindings
all for a purple blanket
to curl herself in.

I should not have left the door open,
hoping for fresh air
and fine furry faith in winter’s dying.

My girl is out wandering,
pink cheeks blossoming
with childhood’s fuzz.

If you find her,
wrap her up and bring her in
so I might make a monument
in my crystal vase
at my shut-in table set for two.

Tags: Natural Nuances, Poems by Shewolf
No Comments »