The Rain Made a Galaxy (from the journal)

From the poke to the honeysuckle,
Carolina wren warns the others—
the poet has taken up her pen. 9-5-11



In the light
catbird speaks,
makes it all real. 9-13-11



I might be a flower.
The color is right.
Hummingbird holds me in her eye. 9-17-11



In this place
where we are in thought,
sometimes I start a poem
and then someone finishes it. 9-17-11



The rain made a galaxy
out of funnel spider’s
widening web. 9-24-11



The sound that comes
from mourning dove—
that sound—
folds back time,
opens space. 9-27-11



From the east—
moving air and more—
change. 9-29-11