Thailand, 2016, Poem #2

A bricklayer on his scaffold

Drops a plumb line from the topmost brick

To set it just, just so. If it is straight

His wall will stand and stand.


A poet drops a plumb line from her head to heart to find her voice

Setting her words just, just so. When it rings true

The culture she builds will stand, and stand

And stand.



Thailand, 2016, Poem #1

God of spider webs

God of the fisherman’s net

You catch the greatest game

with the thinnest of threads.

Your creel is filled with fish

You roast goodness over charcoal for breakfast

You bake my bread early in the morning

You wake me for a walk by water whirling, and why?

Because if even one strand connects my heart to yours

I too will have a happy hook in my lip.