Why The Sun Shines So Brightly Today I’m certain that todaythe spirits are holding up the sun. That death is sitting on a benchsipping a strong orange pekoe in Washington Square Park – the black fenced in yard where the dogs play. I’m certainthat all the tears shedding today are made of starlight so the spirits holding… Continue reading POEM A DAY – MARCH 27
Tag: death
POEM A DAY – March 21
one day into spring and i’m floating on a raftof poetry…short, fat chunksof stanzas braided withmermaid hair…and hopethe water (made of tears) isbedazzled by the sun:death keeps scooping people upand I think she’s tired tooof all the heaving last nightthere was so much magicthough, just like…everywhereon everyone…skin so goose-bumped we looked like aliensall that lifting… Continue reading POEM A DAY – March 21
POEM A DAY – March 19
This Now The dog snores.The coffee colds.The heat whirs. Pope JoanHestiaSappho and Marguerite Porete await my attention.The journal pulses. Death is open-mouthedswallowing anotherbody into its belly depth, darkness:the hold before a new birthing untangles into thelight. Grief is agrotto we slink into – weep, laughsigh, sleep. Ourflushed cheeks press againstseashell walls.
VANESSA SHIELDS 