From January 2016

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (VII)

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“With two hooves”

With two hooves and a full heart
I have fashioned a poem.

It was born of a fragrant branch
cut from the top of a white mountain.
With a delicate blade I shaped it,
refined its roughness,
I smoothed, sanded, and stroked it
until it had the softness of your snout.
With a dark varnish
I released the blood in its veins.

It was born as you were, it is yours.
I traveled the winds of salt,
where the waves ache
and the rivers meet and mix.
At a silver lake I listened.
I crossed the seasons,
and found in the fountains of spring
the voice that knows your name.

With earth on my hooves,
I bring this poem
to the silent place where you keep
the secrets of your heart.

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (VI)

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“Your eyes”

The shades of sky
in the seasons
are not so numerous
as the shades of your eyes.

With dawn’s first glow
they opened,
extracting light
and drinking color,
singing,
with the play and splash
of the stream.
Hills, feathers, and branches
were the instruments
of their song,
and they went reading
the notes of the day,
reading its words,
(reading these words),
and casting their image
in the reflecting eyes
of another.
They continued,
sharing their illuminated
give and take,
until twilight released its rivers,
and your eyes,
like the tip of an alpine peak
caught the last sparks
of fleeting fire.

Through electric shadows
they carried their light,
until evening closed
and they opened anew,
stars,
in the night of your dreams.

“Blurtso jumps” (V)

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Hmm, thought Blurtso, that was quite a week. First I was no one, then I set a record, then I was famous, then I was banned, then I was no one… all because I slid down a hill on a couple of sticks. I sure am glad insanity is fleeting.

“Blurtso jumps” (IV)

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Where are the reporters, said Alex, and the paparazzi? They’re gone, said Blurtso. Why? said Alex. Because the Olympic Committee disqualified my jump. Why? said Alex. Because I jumped on four hooves, said Blurtso, and they said the binding attaching my front hooves to the skis made it easier to keep my tips up, which gave me greater lift, and resulted in the world record. And I was also disqualified because I’m a donkey. Well, said Alex, don’t feel too bad, the Olympic Committee didn’t allow women to ski jump in the Olympics until 2014. What?! said Blurtso. Yes, said Alex. That’s shameless discrimination, said Blurtso, do you think they’ll ever let donkeys jump? No, said Alex, but if they do, the story of your record will be a great inspiration. Really? said Blurtso. Sure, said Alex, you’re a pioneer. Wow, said Blurtso, like Babe the blue ox!

“Blurtso jumps” (III)

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Blurtso? said Alex. Hmm? said Blurtso. Why are you hiding? Because of the people, said Blurtso. The TV trucks? said Alex, and reporters and paparazzi and helicopters? Yes, said Blurtso. Why are they here? said Alex. I competed in my first meet today, said Blurtso. And? said Alex. And I jumped 276 meters, said Blurtso. So? said Alex. It was a new world record. Oh, said Alex.

“Blurtso jumps” (I)

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Harlan said you went skiing, said Alex. Yes, said Blurtso, and the strangest thing happened. What? said Alex. I was invited to join the ski team. Really? said Alex. In what event? In the ski jump, said Blurtso. Today is my first practice.

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You want me to do what?

“Graham Cracker Crumbs” (V)

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“Your name”

The world was still new,
uncertain shapes and sounds,
when first
you heard your name.
“Lizzy” could have been an apple,
or a butterfly, or a sunset in spring,
but its syllables
became a seed,
the sprout of your center.

Little by little
you grew comfortable
with the sound and the colors
in your name,
its wings sailed
from voice to voice,
crossing
the houses and streets and trees,
making its way
to the peak of a dream.

At the first competition
it seemed the chilly name of another.

It was not yet you,
its essence was untested,
so you went seeking,
searching in weary mirrors,
in questioning shadows,
in solitude,
until you found
its true voice singing
in the slow light of dedication.

It was then it lingered,
and stopped a Blurtso that passed,
thinking it was the echo of an apple,
or a butterfly, or spring.