rosemerry

your skin matters not to me
I would rather feel your mind.
gently unzip my eyes to see
the flowers that you find.





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field life

The snot on my hands is indistinguishable
from dog slobber but I'll wipe it off just the same.
These hands are magnets for unwanted bacteria.
Does it strengthen my immunity to such things
that make me question why? I can't
make sense of all these things
that happen to me like
falling books.
I peel back pages revealing green;
unreadable to the eyes.
      My fingers do the looking and
      I let my tongue taste the text of life.
      My immunity falters no more.




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weather vane

I am a victim of climate change. 

The atmosphere keeps changing and I all can do is adapt. 

I'll plant my seeds and wait for them. 

The weather reads its memoir to me 

and it's not until the wind whispers by

that I see myself in the clouds one moment 

and in the rain the next.  

I'm in Seattle one moment and

Hungary the next. 

My mind is a garden. 

A curiosity of color and dirt; 

a jungle of fruit and weeds

showered by sun strength.

I am a victim of life. 

The wilderness expands and all I can do is stride.

I'll plant my seeds and then plant some more. 

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Spring Break

I just spent this past week with my kindred spirit and soul sister, Lizz. 

Someone told us just yesterday we looked like sisters, which just goes to show. 

The splendor of our sisterhood is

laced with laughter and love, 

wrapped in warmth, 

brewed by Beauty. 

Click here on the collaboration of our creativity: 

 Stars

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