Sand Paper Day

Today is a sand paper day.
That wood could be
as sensitive as this
makes me feel more
sympathy for the tree
that became a table
or chair.

Becoming is rough.
(Being is tough enough.)

Today is a rug burn day.
The kind your brothers gave you –
You remember –
Skin, heart, mind, spirit pulled in
opposite directions until
it stings.

Loving is rough.
(Living is tough enough.)

My Voice (Yodelay-ee-oo)

My voice.
(Mine.)
Whispers in my ear
expresses through my fingers
wants, by the bend of my knee.
(Mine.)
My voice.
Pushes with its elbow
in the small of my back
when it thinks I’m not listening
(Mine.)
[..Yes.
I am yours
You are me
and mine...]
(MINE.)
My voice.
Struggles to KNOW
strains to feel
hopes, above all
(Mine.)
My voice.
Mine.

Coconut Woman

When I lived on Hawaii I ate
Coconuts
She said
When I lived on Hawaii I ate coconut.
When I lived on Hawaii I watched
Surfers sail
She said
Surfers sailing past the beach.
When I lived on Hawaii I danced
(A lot)
She said
When I lived on Hawaii I danced a lot.

When she cut up a coconut
Just for me
Just for me
She told these stories
when she cut up a coconut
just for me.