wave

one year later

and all your stuff started showing up here.

a refrigerator washed ashore-

contents rotten and expired,

forgotten...

we could send it back

but the memories (once held

by a magnetic force)

have drifted off somewhere

and we aren't sure how to fill

the empty space they've left behind

search

I search the corners (of this earth) gone wild

I, the potter's daughter

with clay in the cracks of my bones

alone-

I write words into the ground as seeds,

I knit lavender into my sweater seams,

and look for cracks in walls.

I ride my bike through crowded streets,

I recycle my worn-out dreams,

and look towards the rim of the skies.

In my quest I've felt

     the painful wind

     the rainfall in     -discriminate

and have outgrown these shoes

and needing a hope to cling to

(a hope to step into)

I search the corners (of this earth)

gone wild. 

waiting for rain

you do not turn this wilderness
into a garden
but there is new life in me

and while the earth is
still too dry
to plant these seeds...
I hold them out, I hold them open

and wait for rain