by lori | Feb 24, 2017 | Gratitude, Grief, Here and now, Nature, Poetry
i. see her there that wide open tree out my window the one with gray arm branches, no leaves, and peeling bark? holding divine moss in perfectly twisted hands? the one that all the flickers love? I am breaking, she says, just breaking. ii. Here in this valley between... by lori | May 5, 2014 | Here and now, Poetry
I look forward to being dead. The magic moment that poets— life’s awkwardly literate jesters— become instantly cool and wise: labels we just couldn’t live our way into. I look forward to seeing my life bookended, parentheses completed: Lori... by lori | Jan 3, 2013 | Love, Poetry
We sleep on the floor in the living room with you When you can no longer use The stairs up to bed We hold your head and feed you When the disease spins lies to your brain Saying that eating is a bad idea We stop time together Putting the world on...