Thursday, July 24, 2014


A new poem from my collaboration with Bonnie Roy is up on Finery today.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

first tomatoes of the season

sunsugar tomatoes from our garden

hillary gravendyk

Forest Floors
for Claudia

Folded inside the word is the wood.  Tree totems, patch of earth, bird sound. Nothing is quieter than a wild place in our chests. The word for “air” in an avian language. The fir needle’s fresher wick pulling blood to the surface of the hour. Our betrayers grown into the scenery, taut against the skin.  Some tithe with grasses, the pinecones piling up like drifts of dry snow.  Some swim in the colder water, falling on rocks, picking reeds apart. Redwoods ring and gnats swarm and the deep lakes go dark.  We’ll all come to concluding phrases, full of river-washed stones, full of soft moss.  Forever bound to our bodies. Which falter, which spring up fern-laden groves, which flower and fail.

from the Dusie Blog's Tuesday poem