City of Glass

Cold wind blowing
Squall of gulls over its whistle
Gray and white quilt stitched overhead
Rhythmic thunk of cars over sewer grates
and at the base of paved hills
The smell of the market: tulips, daffodils,
fish and cinnamon
Underlying hint of rain
Then, from on high,
the quilt is pierced with fierce white,
It bounces off the buildings,
reverberates off the ocean
and turns every stone into a rare jewel
and every stain into a priceless artifact

Small Shadows

Deep down in a place,       I haven't begun to explore
            there's a flicker,
a fragment, a tear
      in the fabric of my soul
            in the silk of my heart
Sometimes, I sense it
      I feel it in the spring breeze,
            in the hills lit up with gold
It frightens me, to venture too close
      If I pull it back, I catch a glimpse
            of small shadows
the ones that smell of clover
       and sing of happily ever after
             and smile gap toothed smiles
Down past that flicker, that fragment,
       is a cavern, deep and endless
              filled with stars and dreams
Where one day, love will go to grow
       born when the shadows morph
              into my children

Double Standard

Speech, ideas, requests
grate against my mind
and my heart of hearts rebels,
my soul seethes
They want to leap into battle,
rip apart the other
the one who dared ask
of us what they will not
do for us.
Filthy hypocrites
With all their superiority
and their pomp
Double standard be damned
Oh, how we wish,
my mind heart and soul,
that we had the weakness
to leap forth and tear
the throat of their
speech down

Wound

Sliver of steel, so thin and fine
it doesn't even scratch the skin
or make veins open

So slim it fits between letters,
between words,
right through hope

This is the kind of wound that
cripples not the body
but that place, deep down

The place where we go
when the world tells us
no, we can't

and we whisper,
Yes, we can
but that sliver slices through

The letters of defiance
scattered like spots of blood
broken, deep in the place

where some things never mend

Fighter

I look at you and see that
smug little look in your eyes,
that demeaning glint that says,
"You think you know what
you're talking about?"

I look at you and I see that
if I opened my mouth, if
I let you know, if I let
the words fly

They'd slice right through you,
leave ribbons of blood on your pride,
shatter that glint in your eye
And I'd smile and you'd see

that you never had a chance
against me

Gold

When the valley is in shades
     of gray and brown
and even the color of
  the evergreens has faded
          and you wait, in agony,
for the change
You pray and cry out and plead
     for something to come, to break
this spell

And then, silently, it does, in a handful of
    gold, scattered by spring's forgotten hand

Still

Come and sit,
     with a gentle breeze
  the kind that stirs more
         than just the blades of grass

Allow the world to settle
     like a sheet, floating down
  like gossamer spider webs,
         lighting down with fairy wings

And breathe
             in and out
             in and out
             in and out

      Feel the cool damp grass
against your legs, and the warmth
    of sunshine on your face
 and the breeze across your eyelids