Two Poems

we were ten

skin parts under
a blade

blood welling
is warm above
all things

fear nothing not
the broken-winged owl not
the black-haired child or any kind
of moon

just say it:
forever will end
on Thursday

 

what happened to cousin harriet

she pitched her tent
among the aspens
in spring

they shimmered
in hundreds
around her

she sat in their midst
as in the palm
of a many-fingered hand

all aspens are one tree

in May tall men
came out from among
the Douglas firs
and carried her away

when all was quiet again
the deer came