When a poet or poetess loses his or her sentimentality -
they are finished* ...

And all I had ever wanted
was for the world to look up one day
and see my constellation of stars
scattered throughout the Milky way,
and the vast, starry night sky.

There is a holiness in the wind
these wisps of diaphanous clouds that fly
always I smile in the gentlest of winds that kiss
oh, but I do not like the harshness of winds that whip
how they come to blow the hollow of darkness
toward the light again, things buried underground
places - like death, the stabbing pains
I've met, awakened while
seeing and feeling.

The grass is looking
strikingly green
in the autumn sunshine

Morning air quickened our skin
We waited patiently for dawn to -
begin
Built fires with construction debris
Mentally prepared ourselves for what the day -
might bring
We slowly peeled our garments as the
work set in , the song of the gas piper
played again* ..

I poke my cat square in the lips,
And a giggle bubbles past my own.
She throws herself down beside me,
Purring madly.
I lay my face against her soft, warm belly
Thinking how silly to learn patience from a cat
Not realizing
As soon as I turn out the lights
She won’t bury her ****
On purpose.