Ash

the wind arrives with a familiar fury
she wonders whether or not to bury
her head, heavy still with last year’s
seasons — fireplace and smoke,
pores choked in acrid pain that won’t
wipe clean, just smears like tears
on skin that used to rebound,
resilient as a rubber band, now
snaps. awakened by the sound
of herself coming to. the truth.
and no way around it. but through
another season she goes, brave
like an iron poker in the fire
of time. she radiates attraction.
a mesmerizing glow. pretty to look.
but don’t touch. her heat will burn you.
the wind’s fury pulls her smoke up,
curls her exhausted air, like the hookah
the caterpillar tokes.
her ‘help’ rises from her cold ash,
disperses on the wind reminding her
who’s in charge — dear girl, not you.
not you.

 

~ Emily C.

10.6.17

Advertisements

When I Forget

when I forget, stars remind me.
in a blink, I will be gone.
not them. they go on.
why? why anything. they ask.

the wind at night whispers stories
only I can hear. a gentle breeze
breaks mind’s silence.
live, it says.

leaves are my memories
drying with the coming fall,
falling on the cooling ground,
decomposing.

I won’t stop them.
Jaded,
this witness to the skeletal past,
crumbling
like it should,
certain death of uncertain life.

strangely…soothing.
those stars,

those stars are always there

hanging in spacetime
uncaring of me, of earth
— the hottest coldest hearts
they are.

I envied them once, but
they envy me.

my light can’t go out.

 

~ Emily C.

9.1.17

 

Umbra



felt it coming,
darkness.

earth revolving,
rings aligned,
whispers in false twilight,
shivers in searing sun.
shade becomes night,
shadow shapes mimic
on ground, its clever canvas…
burning crescent eye in sky

while chill takes over skin.
chattering creatures calling
in flitter flight to trees,
day-rise only briefly lit,
morning woke the bees.
cut short sunrise, quietly it quit
as slipping lunar disc
slid, its blackest black
‘cross unseen solar skin,
ne’er seen with naked sight.
moon covers inch by inch —
flying 1800 miles per hour,
umbra turns out the light,
and on the night, it rolls,
a specter, a cosmic ghost
in transit coast to coast.
birds and bees go silent,
squirrels dart into empty dens,
silver light casts omens
in whispered ancestor tongues
of ancient sorcerers gone to past.
yet tears in present eyes are wonder,
witnessing science in eerie silence,
awe in precision trajectory,
rare glimpse
we dare not miss.

coldness lifts as rays return,
shadows dissipate,
animals disoriented emerge,
back to regular clockwork
as if nothing
to see here…

~ Emily C.

8.21.17


Eclipse shadows on my neighbor’s house. So awesome. What a stunning experience.

The Watchers

Russian, on the trails.
In the fields, Spanish
To my right. German
To my left. Somewhere
Else, unintelligible due
To distance and the wind
Distorting vowels
And consonants into rolling
Rumbles. My ears
Receive it all, like
Symphonic speech,
Punctuated
By

A baby’s wail,

The Universal language
Of all humanity.
An immigrant carries
A backpack cooler
To a family picnic,
It is covered in
Stars and Stripes.

None of us are American.

The train carrying mysteries
To the Canadian border,
Rumbles under the pedestrian
Bridge. It blows its horn
Like a wave hello
To the watchers. They stand
Peering through the chain link
Holes, like fish coming up
For air, lips pushing through
Fence, eyes keenly zeroing.
The rush.
Then gone.
Back to beach. To rocks.
To shells buried, cracked,
Dead, still alive.
Mountains watch us,
Their peaks sentries. Guarded.
Guarding the open sea, a
Partition between our hearts
And the vastness they know
Our limited consciousness
May not be able to see.
See but not see.
None of us are what
The other believes.

We are each other.
English now. Italian.

Human.

Emily C.

7.30.17

Under Aching Bough of Pine

daisies leaning toward the sun
late on summer’s eve
my toes in grass curling plead
for ever longer days

shadow shapes evolve
into geometric sundials,
to shift in setting light, I might
easily lose track of time

left etched by patterned memories
making tangrams out of thoughts
overhead swirling sky turns
indigo, a bed to dancing stars

restless heart wanders
under aching bough of pine
climbing high to precipice
till moonlight night is mine

looking for where I left you
where you left me to be
searchlight spies land nigh
to find earth dreaming empty

save for daisies — upright now,
closed to evening sight,
I take their cue, seal my petals
alone to dark ground, I slide

will morrow bring new light?
will it see your face?
on barren turf I toss…
till sleep decides this fate

 

~ Emily C.

6.6.17

 

Tide of Stars

Prayers at the shoreline to distant gods,
mantras and chants for mystery maker.
Dark matter ripples gently move her hair.

Evening storm retreats, trailing shocks strike
as parting clouds evaporate like dried tears
she cried once, for life’s loves, lives lost,

while tidal waves yawn on black horizon,
swallowing all with a smacking crash,
closing in upon her beach this night

until in dark consuming light she sees
tides of stars at her bare feet, collecting
along moondust sand with each lick of waves.

In her graceful aging youth, never to be old,
she smiles — the stars gathered in her palms
chime as diamonds might in a gathered dress

that flows along winds of time — which pauses.
One dainty swirl and scattered again, they fly…
in the distance, a shooting star aims for her heart.

~ Emily C.

 

6.25.17