providence.

there is a yellow home

three proud stories with painted gingerbread

that waits patiently for her

leaning quietly and sighing through the seasons

it watches the random gene of bravery

that nudges her along in a warped plane

a careful but curious overlap of realities

she can understand the creaks of boards

that speak to her soundlessly through the ether

she contemplates another woman's memories

that have set up camp in her head, while

she dreams awake through her daily life

and waiting at traffic lights

in another world that is miles or years away

from the black and white cat

who bends slowly around her ankles

whiskers whispering in the sunlit kitchen

speaking the familiar synergy

that she wonders how

she can understand

© 11.27.12 heather brager

11.20.12

we have come miles now
seasons revolve within us
we won’t hibernate

© 11.20.12 heather brager

scenery and a soundtrack.

she was in the south, the dry flanks echoing

stretching inside-out on all sides

birds of prey and iridescent clouds losing altitude

lucinda williams in the speakers

and emptiness in her palms

she was that eagle flying east and west

the midwest stretching lazily beneath her

speaking through the voice of bob dylan in the earbuds

stirring her to dream of the deciduous trees

and trilliums that raised her

she was consumed by the promise of the sea

the urban rhythms and city lights

heels in alleyways and over cobblestones

slaid cleaves on the stage and this man beside her

stirring optimism in her glass

© 11.16.12 heather brager

a new day.

there it is, seeping
the wounds and light are the same
we are transforming

© 11.13.12 heather brager

a promise.

it is not a wonder, you

ceased hearing

the sweeping hush of green boughs

outside the window

as the cities

and faces click by, you

lurch toward the guard rails

press against a bitter wind,

wish to rest your eyes

you visualize the frayed edges

of this mislaid joy, the time

when you could bend down

and lift promises to your chest

it is not a wonder, in this

world you molded,

the perspective to lose

has been lost

in the continuum 

© 11.8.12 heather brager