random words

a selection from archives

Scarf (1993)

She can do magic with a scarf,
Turning the plainly beautiful
Into the simply elegant,
The way a stage magician might toss a scarf
Onto a purring kitten
And bring forth a dazzling dove.

She does magic, too, with words,
Listening tirelessly, and returning few
But with thought and wisdom,
And, diverting attention from the obvious
Reveals the enchantment of the commonplace.

There is magic, too, in her eyes
Which glisten from earth-toned depths
And see, with better-than-perfect acuity

sonnet (1993)

O quiet singer, dark and silent friend,
What melody do you keep hidden there
Behind those tacit eyes, what words might lend
A substance to your barely-whispered air?
Is your canto one that we might share,
A chord in common silence, learned by touch,
Or is it harmony or lone despair
To which another note would add too much?
If I should sing my heart, its verse and tune,
Might you find diversion in the sound
’Twixt songs of mother earth and silent moon
And join in gentle fugue or bawdy round?
   Asking so much seems foolish, brash, unwise—
   Yet not too great a risk for such a prize.