My poems of this morning -

The Meeting


 


Ah,
awe -
the starting point of consciousness
where the breath comes in
and touches the heart of our lungs
like the hummingbird beak
the place where pistil and stamen meet.


The ovary is a bulb.


Squeeze and release
the organ meat.
Tone and bellow,
I’m here and I’m not.  


Squeal the particle
until it waves.
Heed the pony tail
and pig tails
as endings
that straighten,
curl, and braid.      


 


 


The States of Matter



what now brown cow
what now
plain brown
or splattered with spots
like pancake bubbles
waiting to be flipped -
what goes on as the grass
is browsed,
digested,
and converted
to gas,
and still, with all that,
the cow
gives milk
and putters thought like paddies
puddled in mass.