Portrait
Holding my breath
fears quieted by river mist
I dance mermaid, full-tailed and fleshy.
You watch like wild garlic as
I flit from shade to shimmer
turn silted somersaults.
You paint me naked, still,
my mouth sand, my eyes pebbles.
I forget to hold my breath.
What the Others Know
My hand in brambles
is it here they tuck
misshapen thoughts or
are secrets trapped in
cuckoo spit, clinging
to otherness?
Nothing is ripe here
yet but
I grow questions by the hour
weave them into the
six bar gate, brand
them in bark, nest them in
hedges. A dog-walker nods
a smile at me. His
pockets bulge with
answers, brambles
vining from his boots.
Fevers of the Mind 
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