Feb 6

Snow brings us to childhood. The smell.

Smelling snow brings us to the beginning. We begin new.

Something I heard when I was standing and the wind came.


It was the grasses I  remember

All the canyons layering on top of each other the black rocks in Czechoslovakia, this serpentine canyon —


Just sorting memories


Between real and imagined

both are important to me


You in the river, that was like yesterday.

How was i the only one not in that video?


I saw you

In the music

In the river

In your boots and sandals your bare feet stained in the rain

Your dress touching the water

You are sometimes very beautiful

Lately, I have been hiding — practicing my manners.

Realizing I still don’t have an income that will bring me any success

Oh yeah,

I remember

The grass blowing

Lying down in the sun

Your purple hat

Your bare arms in the cold

Your sister – the seriousness of her illness –

Remember just before the incident she said, in between open and close there is confusion.

I will paint what I told myself to paint

I will no longer just scribble around

I’m tired at looking at these lonely places on the internet

How have I left myself so vulnerable still? Don’t you see where the world is heading or has headed?


Do I ever learn the right lessons?


I worry too much

You don’t seem to worry too much to me

winter branches

I worry I will forget

Forget what?

All of it

Forget what needs forgetting

I worry the inspired moments are wasted on some escapade that always starts from nothing and ends with nothing

I am sitting now

Wishing the day would come to me, jump through the window, drag me out to the desert find me a hot springs

It’s lonely out there

And, I would no longer linger in this limbo

Blue what?

This limbo….

The spider webs dance like blankets in the wind when it gets this cold

Yeah, they are everywhere

My dream journal says Colombia runners


Desert bees

Hmm sounds like your not paying attention


Rain Roses


Checkpoint Mexico driving

Difficult walking in the rain

Vladimir and I play the drums

Sarah says more of this

It is good

Rachel stands next to her blue feathered map. or is it beaded? Toshi silhouette wild things in his hair – a staff.

My students come to get me. They laugh and smile they form a human chain linking arms. They move through the tall windy grass. It is night. They say, “We are taking you across the border. Don’t be afraid!” I prepare the house for the travel.

There are many young people in his group filling cups with color and readying the projector. He stands by me….in the grove animals show up….ibis…we turn to watch…They run down to ask something about the sound. Claudia smiles about something. The audience gathers…I fold my body and glide into the grass grove to watch the birds.

My mother and father sit together on my couch


they talk about family

speak like friends, lovers

my mom disappears

leaves notes in town


my father finds work

I am listening to the world

I visited the baby marty delivered

pauline comes through the house

you speak the sea

he says they use you like a weapon in there

“That’s a good song”

she steals the pink flowers

she plans her escape

she jumps into the train with the baby

she hurts herself

Norman L.’s Tao book cactus blossom pressed in pages

I am jumping in four directions remembering my songs I realize every song ever is a dream

I have to pack for a train, I can’t do it

I am with you in a sea town

water pours around you. I wonder what to do next. you hold your head

I look back to see women walking on the water across the river

will they make it?

Andrea visits she brings gifts and shows us how this poem

She tells us what IO and PO did.

I prepare a floating bed in the deep water with flower petals

my daughter

I am in a small town going between the crowded rooms talking to families I recognize my students

Eddie says, “don’t be a burden!”

my protective forces are strong

It is what I do to  to survive

“I  see you on a horse”

“That sounds about right, I am trying to see if the saddle fits so I can ride.”

Ms Uslan says I should have a look around

I don’t have proper shoes

Raging Mountain

A sea storm about to travel

Hiding from strange men

Sweatshirt for friend’s child

Eddie and Marty are sitting on a ladder


Editing poetry journal pronoun–

it is important

A horse

I travel to Pamela’s house

Stay a few days, I take all her black clothes with silver and gold.

Pamela says, “Don’t be afraid of your education.”

Are you leaving?

Do you like in there?

Black marble bathroom

Pamela’s house

We are fixing the root

There are houses

You are holding something

A white peacock

In the field

You have friends working the land

We walk through the neighborhood

Nopales Agave

The dirt road

This is precious

I have my pictures with me

I am piloting down the canal

The rain is misting

We are deep in the canyon forest

You find the train cars tied with fancy string

Light hums in a city room

Yesenia is writing a book

A red Kite for Tosh

Josh is fixing the wood-shed door

Hanging from the roof

A huge sky

Birds circling

Traveling with a little food in the bag

No-one knows I am here

I am arriving

Walking the dark trail I almost turn back

Saddleback cliffs

Grass and sea

Blue night

A circle of images


My brother

Photographs brewing in a pot

Secrets inside a rock

I am younger

Keys to the house

Caught in the house


I draw

I take my time walking to Russia

Losing Tosh

White dress covered with bracelets


Dark fills to the falls

“are you ok?”

Ismenia says,” It is difficult Ms. Reed.”

“The baby is having a hard time”

Yaya’s hermano visits

Long black hair

Hair construction

The people organizing

The sheriff laughing

I introduce myself to the video class

Your father is herr

You are in the back of the room

He wants to see you

She lets him go in to the night, away from the crowd

He said he would be there

You do not know he is here

you are not well

I just remembered,

your father is dead

I see him in a dream this morning

He wants me to tell you he will be there


This is precious, i say. I have my pictures with me. i am piloting down the canal. I am in the water. The rain is misting.we are deep in the mountains. The canyon forest. You see the train cars tied with fancy string. I dig in my journal from last year this time “I dream my aunt dies and no one tells  me. we live underground.by the canal. I dream  my uncle with a necklace goes into the hospital.” You tell me your brother accepts his mother’s home. He is moving today from the streets – living in his car. you talk to him. We make Coffee. 

i find an enchanted book of children’s paintings. They are mine and yours. A red deer. A plane.

Gerardo tells me not to fight. To listen. The sunrise is un-explainable. terrible city so many homeless.. Birds gathering force. clarity before retractions of fog. . .I dream my teachers, arguing, unhappy. I go for it i teach the children the idea of movement. They dance water and playing soccer and raising their hands to the sky. They beat the sky and say the names. the ones who did not make it back to them — across the border. Emily says between open and close there is confusion. He dances in his work boots . Man, this traffic is serious. He dances in his boots just days before the election. there is a white heron. a mattress across the river road in the grass by the building. still. Hunting.

There are people in my life who would rather be consumed by fire than to go on living.

 blackberry trail—  neil. reckless waterholes to keep from jumping into
frothy glacial melt foam water
your daughter
a child’s creek
“Did you come because you knew what I was going through?”
we sit
the side of our backs pushing into each other

Climbing down

into the river

you will return

i cling to the wall kicking snails into the water


is there nothing to offer?

you wait with the question


shoes falling apart in the rain

memories and death

fires look different

i don’t know what they tell you

but the fires come here