when I ride give
me not a saddle
but the force of
blood-filled muscles
moving against
my thighs and salt-
wet hair rubbing
moist threads from jeans
let me not ride to
save myself from
walking but to
fill with wind and
thunder as we
gallop pressed so
close hooves and
breath are mine
Thank you to the editor of Something Like Homesickness for first publishing this poem. Thank you N. Garvin for your beautiful photo of Charly.
Contagious as your hummingbird smile may be,
it is your hands…
hands that sculpt ki into a dragon’s mouth
with arcs of mother-of-pearl framing rainbow flames
that smell of warm milk and nutmeg, while your
touch draws the breath of muscle to bone,
then deeper.
Too few lines cross your hands,
large, almost too large, they hold the sea.
Ki–Japanese word meaning energy or life force.
Thank you to the editor of Something Like Homesickness for first publishing this poem.
