Sunday, May 31, 2009

You said my name and
red and green gems fell out of
your mouth.
My name was given to me by my
mother and then again
by you.
It hung there making music,
making me real.
I was a phantom, I was baited breath;
unformed and messy
out of my container.

From all the words, I can only remember
the shade of red leaking around
my name.
The letters formed from purple
opulence, some iron bar bent into
You played my name and it clung
to me like oil.
I hide in my name and you have
fed me in its deepest corner.

Monday, May 25, 2009


Mark and I went to the Gamble House in Pasadena last month. Go.

Sock in it's native setting
My elbow is healed! My knitting has resumed. Inspired to make socks.