A clenched dream shattered by the bitch alarm

and the dog’s mania – Gut! Get! Gut! Get!

My twin grimaces from the toaster’s gleam.

I remember a German woman who married for love

before the war and found herself stranded in Texas. The sky,

she said, was stainless steel, fundamentalist blue.


She longed for the layered tangle, the fugue currents

of Weltzschmertz turning in on themselves.

To have and to crave, a thing and its shadow.

Morning fog purrs, cloud furred. A thin light bunkers

down in the old elm. Here I am at the window

of this life, thinking of you still.

Magpie cocks a one-eyed challenge:  Sing.


from Women`s Words: An Anthology,
University of Alberta

On Webs


Like dreams, they seem impossible.

Imagine creating both snare

and home from something like spit.

On Beauty

Entranced, Li Po

leaned over the side of his boat

to embrace the moon`s reflection in the lake,

and drowned.