mount vesuvius.

the crumpled blueprint knows this curse

it is written on the soles of my feet 

and on upturned palms

I am intimate with these

hexes in the air, and the

breathless hesitation gripping

my throat, but

these bones will not allow a retreat

there is darkness 

downhill with the headlights off, and

I am climbing from the ashes

© 6.9.2014 heather brager 

anagnorisis.

above the clamor

of our meager existence

there is a resonance

stretching to be heard

with damp restlessness,  it

writhes in the space

above where we live

in a shabby blue townhouse

where we park our rattling cars

and trip over shoes

left in the entryway

© 5.1.2014 heather brager 

restive.

I am perched right here.

it took us such a long time

to sit on this couch.

© 4.28.2014 heather brager 

spring.

she is a deft lie

dormant, quietly waiting

for the rain to come

© 4.11.2014 heather brager 

insignia.

you are still a proposal

left dangling loose, often forgotten

you are caught by

a springtime afternoon

and here I am

you are light filtering

through this untidy room

there are remnants of you

in hours I lie awake

reinventing an existence

recapitulating the movements

of shadows

reevaluating it all, again

you are a fiber in this sweater

a flitting smear of red in the bushes

outside of this window,

always outside

and here I am,

here I am

ice melted, a pool

at the bottom of my glass 

© 4.4.2014 heather brager 

homesick.

the analysis is bowed

predisposed and weakened

the bough on which she perches
is pushed by the straight lines

her vantage dips and waivers

the mirage falters
and eventually fades

a flicker on a quiet
and still horizon

the subtle ache of

a deserting memory

the western cairn

© 3.12.2014 heather brager 

... ask the question...

"Look at every path closely and deliberately, 
then ask ourselves this crucial question: 
Does this path have a heart? 
If it does, then the path is good. 
If it doesn't, it is of no use." - Carlos Castaneda