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Troy (Poem)
The air hangs still and silent,
Suspended in the heat of the afternoon.
It feels like the dog days of August,
Though the first day of summer has yet to arrive.
I sit in the shade on the hill, close my eyes, and listen.
I hear the distant stamp of armored feet,
The rattle of sword and spear against shield,
And the rhythmic chant of warriors’ song.
And I know: the Achaeans have arrived.
The wind briefly stirs
And brings the coppery scent of blood,
The drifting remnants of ash from sacrificial pyres,
And the faint threnody of women’s cries.
The ground beneath me shakes as Troy’s walls collapse.
Rising, I become aware of a passing train.
The sky has clouded over, but the scorching air persists.
The goddess’ wrath echoes in each step I take,
As I walk home to have a cup of tea.
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Pride (Poem)
They caught a glimpse
Of our rainbow-hued world
The way we breathed more easily
By being here together
How our eyes reflected the glitter of drag
In irridescent tears
How our voices threw off the ever-present caution
We assume in other company
How our laughter bounced off the walls
While we danced through the night
How we wrote our stories in bright chalk
When we knew they were temporary
(They walk over them the next day
To erase our words as always)
This is all we have, an evening hidden by careful description
A morning hour carved from someone else’s time
A piece of pavement borrowed from a storefront
Still we remain
We are here
And we don’t care if you get used to us
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Remedy (Poem)
Birdsong pours through the morning
Drenches every tree and bush.
The ink-dark remnants of the night
Stars and bits of forgotten dreams
Transform into rainbows and glimmers of hope.
Laughing, we open our hands
To catch trilling notes from the flow,
Hiding these away in the hollows of our hearts.
For who knows what troubles the day might bring?
