All living is storm chasing Every good heart has lost its roof Let all the walls collapse at your feet. Scream “timber” when they ask you how you are… - Andrea Gibson

I grew up in the town that received the first distress signal

saying the Titanic was going down.

It was the only thing we were ever renowned for.

In fact, we prided ourselves on our failure to save the sinking

but I’ve found it’s always worth trying to find a way

to walk away from the land mines

and hope you come back

with your skin intact enough to drink the moonshine

Rocking Chair

Sad is.
Scared is.
That is all.
The rocking chair I live in rocks like a paper boat. Sometimes I am all words, and no boot.
No muster. No yes. All lag and tired pray,
all miss my hometown. Miss the woods
and the quiet porch and the talking slow.
I caught the snow on my tongue.
Snow angel, I.
My heart a blue lamp.
My mother calling me home.
We cannot be called home enough times in our lives.
Dear lonely,
what is your name?
I will open my front door
and ring it through the streets.