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

aspirate.

we continue to evolve

unfurling from artificial asylum

reinventing our own image

circling and pushing outward

we are ripples on the surface

of a bottomless pool

saturated
                 adrift

© 12.24.13 heather brager  

once upon a time.

it would still be dark further west

she would remember plum colored hills

benevolent, cold and drunk

bones removed from their hands

small trinkets nestled in deep pockets

the memories of declining charm

winds pushed west to east

peaks reflecting in wet eyes

she lived in a glass amongst the ice

it would resurrect in the morning

mist in their mouths and frost on the foothills

they knew this would happen

© 10.28.13 heather brager   

you are a contradiction.

you are not my spirit

faltering behind

and within my body

your steps are a hesitant swallow

on a bare branch

on the bare ground

you are no longer the tide

you are inside my skull 

a translucent paper cube

you are compression

you are flight

© 10.14.13 heather brager  

post traumatic.

she used to be pure

a looking glass is shattered

remnants of the past 

© 10.7.13 heather brager