DiaBLOGue

Snows

That snow falling out there, not in flakes 
But in clusters of flake, little snow balls 
Loosened by November’s sun still barely struggling
Through the harvest haze, snow falling 

The Time Traveler Comes to Cana

So I went to Cana and spent Sabbath 
in that house, their guest, before the wedding.
The daughter spoke with joy of her marriage;
the mother sat impatient—Sabbath’s end 

March Children

Her head nestled in the palm of my hand 
not so long ago, 
little lips tugged my breast, 
fingers pink as birthday candles 

Negative Space

It’s hard being Mormon Mormon mind regards nipples

Razor Sharp

You, my father, 
Too damned independent at seventy-five 
To admit you could no longer handle 
A simple double-edge Gillette,