Swimming all the time

Telescopes reveal the heavens
buried deep within our brains
relics lying in the dirt

(not for amateurs, this
circulating blood)

Seemingly random singers
blossom harmonies
of the heart: overtones

Another found poem, sourced from this NPR article about “close listening” in the medical field.

Bones in Church Ruins

So these were the clues in the dirt
(a very holy mystery): clearly
a reliquary, silk sash with silver
sequins mixed with teeth
and pitted jawbones

Our men were destroyed
with cruel diseases, burning
fevers and by wars—
some departed suddenly
(mere famine); life was hell

A found poem sourced from this NPR article about archaeological discoveries in Jamestown, Virginia. Trying to get my brain focused and writing juices flowing again after our family’s transatlantic move.

Thomas Jefferson’s brain

on display today in London
bastion of civilized contradictions
fossils skeletons stuffed specimens
on the spectrum from dinosaurs to dolphins
seen through all these shades of humanity

from Adam man alone has the past as burden
a future dimly seen through history twisted
mislaid misrepresented cut down on a whim
like a thousand-year-old tree collected labeled
arranged by color and date and purpose in glass

cases to admire our own wars and weapons
teeming termite-hills of fear and greed
the paper trail of our forbears magnificent
jumble and the thing I want to do I cannot

make heads or tails of these Latin lines
translate virulent wonder into beauty
a POINT neat and prim as Jefferson’s
handwriting logical legible underscored

for the good of all people

I am processing a weekend trip to London which included a visit to the Natural History Museum, the National Maritime Museum, and the British Library’s exhibit on the 800th anniversary of the Magna Carta, where I was captivated by Thomas Jefferson’s handwritten copy of the Declaration of Independence.

Titan Spring

It is spring on Saturn’s Titan,

thus the white sheet of ice-pebble

rain over black wind-whipped lake,

the blossoming of sudden spume,

steep rivers in spate and we need

no longer moan how we hate

the years-long winter


Back on Earth they’ll celebrate

these glimpses, telescope distant

shift of shadows, the bright spot

in smoke-and-mirror atmosphere,

the long dance in rusty sunset,

gas-fired hum of temptation,



Inspired by this NPR article about some astronomers’ recent excitement about springtime changes on Saturn’s largest moon. It tickled my imagination…

After Seventeen Years

I am poured and swelled to bursting

like the brimful cup. You would say,

surface tension. You would say,

internal pressure. The molecules

at the top, not being surrounded

by the same, are pulled, irresistibly,

inwards. You would say, this contractive

tendency allows the surface to resist

external forces. It will push back.


I would say,

it makes perfect sense.

I would say,

I can even name the molecules:

failure, love, grief

wrongs, love, forgiveness

child, parent, love


Starting out in a completely different place, I found myself using lots of repetition, perhaps still pondering Quickly’s Prompt for April 22. Thanks to Wikipedia for a crash course in “surface tension.”