Sunday, April 10, 2016

Limping through Shangri-La

My unicorn threw a shoe
and sent me sailing headlong
through a gentle mist

of sun rays and birdsong
until I slammed against the stony edge
of a lovely double rainbow, colorful

as the butterfly I crushed while sliding
feet first all the way down the glorious arch
into a pot of molten gold.

First appeared in Poetry Breakfast - April 2016

Sunday, April 3, 2016

Chorizo and Eggs

The spicy air of chorizo crackling
in a hot iron skillet only this much
more black than the slate-gray
November dawn –

this is the knowing
that all you will ever love exists
in rolling from bed, blinking hard
into each blank morning, squinting
against the dim kitchen light

where she stands
in loose fitting pajamas and satisfaction
humming, pouring whipped-up eggs
into the sizzling red effervescence
as a dozen corn tortillas, yellow and cold,
wait to be warmed.

First published in Euphony Journal - Winter 2016