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Balloons

Balloons

Barefoot the children are running, their fists in the air.
They laugh a ticklish laughter, not the mind’s.
The strings they clutch are as thin as the air at this altitude.
What are they running from? Ask a forget-me-not.
Sunflowers read their passage from west to east.
The flowers are foreground: beyond them, the precipice.
A broom of a wind swishes across a footprint.
That little piggy was hearing, that little piggy was vision....

Adopting Heroic Dreams

Adopting Heroic Dreams

In asbestos gloves and oxygen tank,
I snatched a girl from a smoldering cot
last night, lay her on my shoulder, and thanked
her for coming. “You’ve been through a lot,”
I said. “I can’t wait for you to meet her.
She’s been going nuts to have a sister.”

Lauds

Lauds

                       My eyes open to a cry,
then flinch back shut. O Lord make haste to help me.
          Why can’t he wake up like the saints,

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