You
You rinse your hands, hand over hand,
and shake the water off. It rains.
You toss your head, and each blazing hair flings
a cloud of crystals. Snow drifts rise in our yard.
You whistle, and whirlwinds spiral,
rearranging the dust of the Great Plains.
Breathing, you excite the ocean;
your waves lick our shores and retreat, like You..
You blink your eyes in what is for you
a nano-second. The planet goes dark.
You thump the drum of firmament;
we hear an affirmation of thunder.
You listen for us as we listen for you.
A thin membrane tears. Sometimes.
Luci Shaw
September
Little Revelations
Bird Woman
Where color is spare
Take These Words
God's Act in Acts
Signs
Irina Ratushinskaya
Comeback for snowy plover
Dancing in the Cathedral
Chiang Mai
Credo
The Possibilities of Clay
Sonnet for my left hip
The Golden Carp
What I Needed to Do
Mary Considers Her Situation
States of being
The longevity of roots
The Returns of Love
Leaf, fallen
Photos from My Trip
The Songs of Camoapa
Watchers
The Annunciatory Angel
Obedience
Psalm for the January Thaw
Schrodinger's Indeterminacy
Holding On
The chair without distinction
The blue eyeball
Crossing
Emergency supplies
Peace on earth
You
Robin in the Late Afternoon
Catch of the Day
All poems are copyrighted by Luci Shaw.
To be reprinted only by permission of the author.