From poetry

Map of a hand

How many continents have traveled beneath this flesh Been held in reverence or punctured on demand? How many miles of emotions have rolled like oceans and rough seas Or teased to wonder why? How many stories held safe? How many lies of omission never fully crossed the lifelines, Waiting to be thrown or held back…

Lytle Beach

  Afternoon sun, cutting sharp shadows on clamshell, white pebble, gray beach glass, green (such familiar things), warms each March beachgoer, including the heartless seagulls dropping helpless mussels from the sky to open them. Down across the sand an unlanguaged man – vocal tic, facial twitch – stands in the mudflats going “hum hum hum”…

New

Bare branches clutch the dying moon, coyotes mourn and call Poor attempts to hold this moth drawn to the beloved Flame Though she shall be reduced to ash then thrust forth born again Jamie Maciejewski belongs to Wordways, a group of women on the Olympic Peninsula who write and share pilgrimages of faith and life.…

These are a few of my favorite things

egg nog with nutmeg (and rum, let’s be serious) kids eating sugar until they’re delirious meeting under mistletoe for marital flings these are a few of my favorite things red velvet ribbons and garlands of cedar wreaths on the door as a festive guest greeter paperwhite bulbs forced to bloom out of spring these are…

“Moonless Darkness Stands Between” 

In The Perks of Being a Wallflower, a small motley troop of friends offers gifts that prove they’ve been listening to one another, that they care about each other’s details and dreams. If only all gifts could say what we want them to, could show our deep affection, could bless and enrich another for life.…

I See Myself

I see myself in the stream up the mountain behind the log cabin in the drenched living woods of the Northwest.   I see myself in the standing wheat, long and perfectly even like matchsticks. The wheat becomes waves and I am both Midwest and west coast. I am warm wind and misty rain. I…

Hope is Gold

RETREAT IS ESCAPE from the clutches of have-to Indulgent reward for the business of must-do The harrowing footsteps down library corridors Chasing down knowledge from book binds and test scores     Success is revision of many mistakes So summer the swimming of so many lakes Retreat is retrieving the bygones and times Of floating…

Communion of Saints

Spoken word/ music track from the Poor Clare album: Like the Tide. Listen below.  . I want to know the god my own unbelieving self can believe in. The one who sides with justice, because there is no other side to take. Who doesn’t fit in holy books, because she is bigger than the bigots reciting…

Two dreams and a memory

You stood on the concourse, ready to depart with Diesels, red hoody, and me. But not me. She was awkward, overweight. “We’re going to Hawaii to think about this relationship,” you say, arm around this other version of myself as I stand on the curb, seeing you off. “Verdict upon return.” . Years later, I entered…

Treehouses

Spoken word/ music track from the Poor Clare EP: In Time. Listen below.   If it’s true there is hope for a tree cut down, I will walk from Alaska down to Patagonia with an axe in one hand and seeds in the other, planting treehouses along the way because even vagabonds need a place…