The Sound Equivalent of Seeing Stars

My–The night wind squeaks.
Or is it the air stutters?
An odd creature is formed
aurally, out of suspension
of disbelief and also noise.
Or, parts of an unseen body
displace its environment.

Next to my air-conditioned
and incandescent filters
of walls, roof, wiring.

It is later than I have
promised myself to rest.
But I keep giving myself
extensions. Could it all
be the balancing
liquids of my skull,
my inner ears? That blank
where I am one of the few
who have no mental images.
And so must strengthen
our other senses.

Glitter Frost

After a fifty degree day in Michigan February,

(The groundhog said it must be spring.)

it dips back into the familiar freezing,

and all the leaves uncovered from snow

start the morning sparkling.


She mows her lawn reluctantly,

by hand, lets the wildflowers

grow. Despite her neighbors.

The flowers attract a stranger,

like a butterfly or a bee

to her front door. She opens it

and learns a story.


The season changes,

and so do I.

There is frost

one morning

on the windshield.

No. Only fog,

wearing frost’s color.