Angel Nesting in the Cholla

Three Poems for a Cold December Morning

Poem 1
The Red Tent*

the needle spins
there is no direction
here the polar wind blows
from everywhere all wind
is born here

on the white continent
no leafy bowers no wise serpents
no fiery saints
a halo of stars
pierces the horizon
fist-sized angels

punch from our mouths words
are white flags torn
in this boreal land
we pitch our tents
driving our stakes
as deep as we can

Poem 2
Winter Storm Warning

high today of sixty
with winds rising
late afternoon

but the forecast
maintains
a precipitous drop

in equatorial words
and interpersonal warmth
by the weekend

Poem 3
Full Moon in December

cold and spherical as the snowball
hitting you in the back of the head

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* Previously appeared in Poem, November 1989, No.62

Id Demands Recognition

Three Poems for Today’s Mood: Things Useless, Sharp, and Filling

Poem 1
Useless Knowledge

WXY is 9 on your telephone
14 pounds is called a stone

a female lobster is a hen
a British can is called a tin

seta is another word for bristle
and amaranth is Russian thistle

useless knowledge this and that
marbles rolling in a hat

flotsam jetsam in our wake
toy boats sinking in the lake

Poem 2
Suture

when the silver needle
of a passenger plane slides
through the blue skin of the sky

Poem 3
Things That

Things That Fill
        smooth round tables
        wisteria blossoms
        cool water from the tap

Things That Drain
        square polished tables
        cut crystal vases
        linen napkins folded into swans