Like the waning moon
Peeking from behind dark clouds
Quietly shrinking
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Like the waning moon
Peeking from behind dark clouds
Quietly shrinking
I don’t feel right somehow. Like I’ve been partially scattered to four winds. Teetering on a tightrope between panic and apathy. Heart hiding in different corners. Torn beliefs. Feet on shaky ground, or maybe more like feet used to the rocking of the sea from the deck of a ship but when they step onto land the unmoving earth feels like it could never feel safe, and comfortable, and home.
My cold, dark feeling
My hidden wisdom so hard to find
My searching for everyone who’s fled and scattered and hid
…
The echoes that follow us
ride our shadows to stay at our side,
bearing down on us somehow
from the ground at our feet…
Always remember:
not many can transcend words
but love remains one
It was large and hefty in my hand.
Glossy and black, more shell than screen, it felt
solid in my palm.
…
So many poems I’ve written!
Would that I could tell you what they mean!
January 10, 2026
You, too, can take advantage of this neat little trick! All you need to do, it turns out, is just…
Still, I try to hand you a little piece of me every day:
a single grape pulled from a vine of many.
“If you always do what you’ve always done,
you’ll always get what you’ve always got.”
I remember hearing this from a woman
whose face and name I’ve long forgotten,
sitting a few seats away from myself
in our little circle…