Brain Coral

Before it can be showtime
I have to get you into the steel frame
Expertly molded around your shape -
Delicate calcium carbonate

Inside, the prongs are lined with felt
To smooth the cradled surface of your weight
Tiny screws slide into place and
I tighten them slowly
Careful not to cause a break

Little bits of your surface
Rest like snowflakes inside the wooden crate
That goes from place to place
Traveling between continents
My job, unglamorous
To catalog, inspect, repair, if possible
The inevitable toll
Damage unavoidable in a cargo hold

You were not meant to fly but
To live in still ocean silence
Among the brackish algae
Little creatures sprouting from your pores
A mockery to put you on display -
A benefit to science
Paradoxical interplay

In San Diego I find larvae in your holes
Under the magnifier's scrutiny
I rush you to a freezer
To kill the invaders
To protect the other bones and skins
From life reconfigured inside their shells

I am a zookeeper of the dead
A wrangler of bones and stones
Tomorrow you'll be out in the open, marveled at
For all to see

Cell Division

She points a stick at the blackboard.
It must have taken some time with
The colored chalk
To get it just right -
The structure of a cell,
The orange mitochondria floating
In a baby blue nucleus
In a bath of matter, a
Pool of programmed instructions:
     Make a brain, a heart
     Make me walk and talk
     Make us love

Hard to believe at the time, but
I listened, thinking
     Why does this matter?
     Why does this matter when
     Trees are dying
     Animals are starving
Why does a cell and a textbook matter at all?

These things all connect.

It took me years but I get it -
So many different kinds of cells
     The tangled nerve cells
     The rounded egg cells
     The long, narrow plant cells sucking chlorophyll -
It's all the same for each
Bark, skin, fur
I see it now, and it clicks, but
Not so viscerally as a finger
With its many types of cells,
But a vast plain and rocks to climb

I can stand up and get there, to the top of the mountain
I can get down to the dust,
There is a nucleus there, in the stone
Once born from a tiny shard of shell
A mollusk, perhaps, an ammonite -
Intelligent life, shadow of a cell.

Waking Up

I refuse to believe my
Most fertile time is behind me
The time of un-tethered words and
Ripe images

I refuse to believe
The apple tree has died and
Taken me down to the dry dust
The summer canyons
Exhaling their last vapors

I know there is more -
Another seed, another Spring
Another phase of creative generation
To blossom the possibility of
Awakened imagination.

Trail End

Fever-pitch footfalls

Come to a close at the base

Of a mountain.

We stop, drop

Our packs in the dirt,

Want nothing more than shelter.

Further above,

I sank down, believing

I could not go on.

You grabbed my shoulders,

Told me we would do it,

Get down and back home, so

I willingly walked in your footsteps.

I slid-scraped over rocks

Tripped over tree roots

The forest and mountain blurring,

Tangled knots of brown and green

Painting the relentless descent.

When we hit the lonely road

We collapsed together,

The sharp, heavy woods

Continuing on into darkness.

**

Our trail-selves retreat as

Dusk makes the colors pop,

Gritty gray and black.

The stiff silence of isolation

Forces us up again

Searching for signs of life.

A minivan approaches -

We get in, carried away,

Not looking back.

Widow's Walk

The ocean is like an onion peeled back.
She stands on the widow's walk
Counting the minutes before dawn
Stretching her vision to the far end
Of the horizon, where
The bloodied razor's edge of sun
Cuts the night open.

Each wave makes her cry,
Like the sting of the onion's tang
The smell of salt burned onto
Her mucous membranes.
She can taste the ocean water
With every inhalation
Until it seems she herself
Is the ship that bears her
Husband home,
Rocking and listing, aft and stern
Tipped up and ready to plunge down.

Kneeling on the cold winter porch
She finds her knees are wet
But her feet have not yet
Touched the shore.



-GSS 2013

Bryant Pond

Wind ripples the glassy lake and sends
Lily pads rising and falling
A dead tree trunk lies immobile
In its permanent resting place
Once-crisp leaves moldering in the muck

A lone frog echoes its own call out
Across the silence from the other side
Where dark woods lead to abandoned camps
Their skeletal docks empty
Plastic kayaks tied up tight against the porches
Rafts stacked on shore for the long winter
The houses sit, unmoving
Water and trees constantly in motion
Tuneless songs riding out the seasons

A forgotten stone picnic table sits
Under a tall evergreen at
The empty boat launch on Rowe Hill Rd.
In my car, looking at the pond,
I wonder if I will miss this place
Its unforgiving solitude and
Beautiful, sweet air.

Reflections in a Window

Tonight the light from the lamp
Illuminates my naked body onto a
Backdrop of dusk
My breasts blend into the
Moist green grass of the
Yard beyond the house
Glowing and round and
Moving slightly as I breathe
As the grass flutters in the breeze

The curve of my waist merges with the
Straight line of the roof's edge
Soft belly and thighs with
Cold tar shingles
Warm tungsten skin radiates
This image of life onto
Cool, smudged glass
Hard as the granite that birthed it.

Saying Goodbye to Maine

Heading down the hill, I watch
Trees shaking violently in the wind
Elastic limbs contorting
Throwing their plumage of leaves
To the freshly tarred asphalt

The cast-offs cascade across the road
Dead oranges, yellows and browns
Tumbling like fallen acrobats
Clinging to their last breaths
Broken trapeeze branches leering high above

In the cool October night the fading
Sunlight sharpens the shadows
Brings out the colors in the hills
Shiny distant windows beaming back a
Silent S.O.S. to the waning day

Squirrels, emboldened by late-season panic,
Dart across the street and I nearly hit one,
A close call out here in the country,
The swollen half-moon my only witness and salvation.

Woodsmoke

Early morning blush fades away
His hand rests on her back
Like a hot stone
There is calm, and acceptance
Hours passing in the short daylight
Lead them home to each other -
Quick, simple dinner,
Bottle of wine
Some ice cream on a cold night
These are the things that add up
To forever:
Fire in the woodstove
Kissing in the orange night
Cat-scratched couch with flat cushions
Sleep comes fast, feet up, hair down
Years pass, just like this.

Canopy

Follow me into this
Silver linden canopy
We'll lie on our backs looking up
Centenarian boughs braiding their own sky
Green leaf stars
Cosmic comets trailing
As we touch, synchronous creation
Of a new celestial story
Bound, terrestrial, in the ancient roots
Of this soft soil foundation.

-GSS 2012

Constellations

We scratched our names in the sky
Etched our hands in the grass
Dry under the moonless night
Your tongue warm and wet
My eyes straining to see yours -
Crystal points reflecting light,
My dark shadowed mouth seeking
Your silent acquiescence

How did we find each other there
In the field across the road
After dark on a Tuesday
Under all those stars?

We never found the North Star
But it shined down all the same
Orion and The Pleiades
Shimmering ancient beacons
Leading us to one another,
Though I would have found you
Even in the pitchest black.


-GSS 2012

Spring Thaw

Melting snow holds tight around the trees
New green leaves shaking lightly
As sun shaft shadows scatter light
Spindly thawing twigs break at right angles
Encountered by unnatural intrusion
Dusty iron grills filled with old char dry and crack
Empty picnic tables expand again, at last
Wood grains releasing moisture into air

When the silence is complete and I am whole
The noise of the falling river will lift me
Out of this darkness punctuated by
Ice breaking into shards
Pine needles will stick to my hands,
Sand grinding into my teeth and
This need for sharing will drown

I could die here, easily, disappear into earth
Blend back into the dust of last winter
My solid and un-weathered parts
Glinting back out through the sun
But I will choose to go on,
To find night amid the mountains
Eat a small dinner for one,
Sleep, dream and breathe you,
Then begin again.

-GSS 2012

Rush

Your voice reminds me of the
Epinephrine rush
I got one time
Before a root canal
Right after the needle went in
When my eyes crossed and
I couldn't uncross them and
My heart went crazy
Couldn't slow down
There was a moment I thought
I might die
Before the cup of water and
The soft, gloved hands to
Calm me down.

High Tide

My heart passenger angel
Transfixed by glossy mood
Sipping soda
Skipping slowly
To the pond at the end of the road

The floods came that summer
And we never saw the moon
Hopes dashed
Plates smashed
I left you in that room

Carried away by water
Touched by many hands
The dancers took their time
Weaving through the brine
The last glimpse
Salt in your hair
Blood on my wounds

Winter breathing darkly dawning
Lips frozen fingers on my face
Half sober
Falling over
Whispers echoing in space

I took it for granted once
A bridge near-buried
Cars like husks
Soft fabric caskets within
People stranded like buoys
On rooftops

I left you in a room
Small pocket, dry island
Cold sun risen past noon

Bathroom Break

Staring at these Mondrian tiles while
I sit looking down
From above
Blue squares and one rectangle
Repeated endlessly
In my bathroom
In my 3AM haze
Two small squares broken by one much larger

Like you break me - broken

One yellow wall framed in white
Too many doors and a bedroom too small
A dresser drawer hanging
A fan blowing without pause
A cat tree well-used
These things, I pass on my way
In the dark, to
Fall back into bed
With you

Fireflies

I never knew there were
fireflies in the New York City
Until one night
A flicker of light
On a dark street
In Queens
The shadows from the trees
Masking the tall lamps above

I walked quickly all those years
My eyes on the concrete
My ears on my footfalls
Aware of anyone behind me and
Ahead
Too scared to look left or right
To catch that glimpse of light
From an unassuming
Black fly

I saw them in clusters
Darting in circles
Bright yellow bursting open and fading
I stood still in the street
Tried to take a picture with
My phone
Could not time it well
And got only darkness
A picture unsaved -
Elusive insect biochemically lit
From within
While artificial bulb squares
Serve as backdrop
Brick buildings and curbs,
Nature obscured
By the city.

-GSS 2009

Breaking

If I take all of our communications
Bottle them up and
Try to make them work
I get one message:
You do not deserve me

You do not deserve me because
I am honorable
I can see the shades of gray
I am honest
I am living life two steps ahead of you
I have seen the color and the shadow
I cannot forget your hands on me
Despite your indecision

The purple in the sky looks like bruises
I am reminded of all you said
Those short missives
Those midnight impulses
Your pictures
Your body
Broken up into segments
Broken down into small, easily digestible
Portions

I can look at you whenever I want to
Through the static and pixels but
You don't blink and you don't move
The silence is disconcerting
As it has been
Since the day I left

I want you more than I want many things
Your complicated situation aside
The box was not small enough to contain us
But I should have walked away
You have your decisions to make
Your emotions to swallow
And where does that leave me -
Inside and outside
Up and down
Waiting on your infrequent words

I am mixed up and unaware of
Where you are
Where you have been
What you have said or
Have not said
Where your hands are, your fingers
Where your lips are, your breath
Whether she can hear your heart beat
Or not
I want to hear your low voice
Your laughter
See your eyes shine just for me
I want your fingers in my
I want your tongue on my
I want your face
Your ears
Your hair

This waiting is impossible but
I am resigned to it
A challenge
A growing
Breaking free of past patterns
Help me out of this wondering
Help me see through you
I can see right through you.

-GSS 2009

Storm

We take turns wading into the storm.

I stand under scaffolding on 76th street
Waiting for a break in the rain,
Waiting for my turn to step out
Into the wet street,
Submerge my feet in the small
Rushing river at the curb,
Where asphalt meets concrete
Where gutter drains overflow and
Broken umbrellas rest,
Sodden and forgotten.

There is a woman running in
Bright red heels and a jogger
Oblivious to the downpour.
A man smoking a cigarette next to me,
Observing, as I am, the city, the torrent,
The streams in the cracks in the sidewalk.

I am watching the crowds but
I don't see their faces.
I am thinking of you,
Thinking of glaciers and mountains
Birds and bicycles
Your hand in mine while we drive,
Your voice and your eyes.

I am thinking that one month from today
I will see you again.
I will leave the city and escape,
The rain will fade into the background,
The only sound, the only presence,
The two of us.

I am ready to plunge into the storm,
Ready to run in my open-toed shoes
Slipping and sliding, skin on leather
But I really want to run to you.

We take our turns in the silence
And it doesn't matter,
City or country, trees or smokestacks,
We are the same -
Waiting to step off an edge,
To dive head-first
To break the suspense and fall
Fall into openness, the unknown
Fall into each other while the clouds
Color the sky black
The moon overtakes us and shines its white light
Illuminates us, breaks us open
Joins us
Until we are one.

-GSS 2009

Bird Watching

The sun is strong and plays its tricks well.
Reflections in the snow burn me,
Turn me red, inside out.

Twilight comes late and the
Temperature changes us.
Birds alight on the mud flats while
The tide rolls away.

I hold my camera steady.
There may be a photograph,
There may be beauty,
But their wings soon spread.

By day we are seagulls,
Plain and simple.
White, gray and yellow streaks in the sky.
By night we let our flights take us
Further afield.

Dusk descends and the truth
Sits calmly -
We are thought, feeling and ink,
More than two, more than one,
Flying forward.

--GSS 2009

The Night We Sang

The night we sang karaoke
On Fulton Street
Walked over the Brooklyn Bridge
Saw the city shining before midnight
Held hands in the subway while
You made me promise
Never to lie
I told you I don't roll that way
Knew I was falling in love
When we returned to Harlem
Together
Under falling snow.