Working you Out
Each day I unbent the
spoon,
Pulled back against
the yoke that pulled me.
Unworked the blood
grooves so easily set
In my cross-stitch
brain now liquid.
Like dark demin
against a washboard
The motions moved
through me
And I learned to
sleep flat on my back,
Getting lost in the
breath that saved me.
Olive orchards
Andalusia
ajo picante
couldn’t burn you out
living still in
swirls of smoke
our tiny universe,
creamer in the coffee.
Daily I was called to
purge you
A sunset domed the sky
at San Rafael park,
Pulled endless
scarves from a cedar trunk.
Thimble thread thorns
Of grey blue, blue
green,
Intestinal wool.
