Of Rocks & Ravens

A truth told through impossibility—rocks fly, and ravens create art, asking what transformation truly means.

Two Poems

Black and white cat
Laps from a tipped cup on the floor.

No one knew better than you
the sound of an out of tune

I believe this.
They visit my poems.

What if Hallmark movies showed us the cracks in the snow globe

Kammi and I met, by chance, one hot August afternoon,
she and I each from either side of the overgrown line fence,

The sound is a car passing on the street. Four tires, that’s what makes the sound.

I hear an airplane
finding its way

Overcome
By the urge to march along marshes

In all the bars they stand with liquids in their hands:
tall and dark and light, thin, stout, young and middle-aged,

My succubus drives a Subaru
but she’s no less sexy than your succubus.

She told him- she loved him.
She showed him through small acts- making his coffee, buying his

You and your boyfriend came to my mind
his steady gaze that follows you

We were only sixteen, like the song,
Only sixteen, (and too young to know).

His wartime work, to ferret the roadbed free
of mines, then jerry-build a pontoon bridge

When considering the end-of-life
care of your parents, consider