songs for the cemetery

empty
of word
thought
action
full instead
of sunlight
wildflowers
birdsong
far off
the stink and roar
of traffic
of air conditioners
of living
here instead
a buzz and hum
of insects
wind and
wings
rampant, teeming
life.
4.18.11


i do love the graveyard
unmowed
all things equal
tall grass, periwinkle
rabbit tobacco, phlox
iris and astor
stock and rose
the democracy of neglect
creates
wild abundance.
4.25.11

number 38

and so the poetry 365 project lives. apparently it will take more than a year, but eventually there will be 365 poems here. unless, of course, civilization crashes and i am relegated to scratching in my notebook with carbon scraped from the woodstove. in that case, there will be 365 poems in my notebooks. let's hope it doesn't come to that. regardless, you are welcome to come along for the ride.
lovepeace
heather

exit stage left

in Shakespeare
even the minor villain
expires pursued by a bear
i perspire, very much alive,
in the graveyard
perused by gnats.

ht. 4.11.11

goodnight

at last
the house slept
those within coiled
so tightly upon
themselves
corkscrewed
into dreams
already through
the silent door
and gone
leaving the tiny house
with the tic
 of the cooling stove
and the hum
of the refrigerator
night music
the song of every night
quiet, the house, dark, alone
a wing extended
curled in darkness over
the sleepers
until dawn.

ht. 3.24.11