Friday, February 26, 2016

of black holes and other matter






Black holes are real, they say;
they've proved it now.
How they bend the fabric of space and time
when they collide;
their siren songs luring the stars
to endless sleep—
while down here, in the dust
and infinite solitudes,
we hold on.



Thursday, February 11, 2016

self-portrait in my mother's mirror





The reflection is mine,
yet I see her there, too—
shimmering across
the beveled edges of her mirror,
the one she left to me.
I see how her spirit dances close,
stopping to brush my cheek
and maybe chuckle with delight
over the horn rimmed glasses
so much like hers.

("They look good on you!")