Reflective Writing
I see my skin in pale pink, yellow hues.I see the same skin under white pointed hats,under the rhetoric of white, right religion.I see the same skin under the screams of people,innocent, beautiful people,being scorned, raped, beaten, hung.What right do I have to say these words,the color of my skin, my eyes, my hair, my … Continue reading An Embarrassed White Person
I can’t see you, I can’t touch you I lay in the sun and warm my bones I slide my hand in the grass and pretend it’s you, it makes do I think about the potential to build and destroy, about growth you work, my mind is on you, what are you seeing what are … Continue reading Helpless
Box cargo, box train, four carts, twenty carts, fifty carts. Two-mile watch, carts pull the same distance apart. Five carts pass, three carts pass, running hard, two carts pass, one cart. Tempered and noiseless, just when the wheels stride, focused on that metal bar, it dips. I reach and pull up hard against the wind … Continue reading Train
Nature is a different world, from our cars, our houses, our ambitions. Noise. Vibration. On one side of me, I hear engines speeding down the highway. On the other side, there is a workshop- a wood shop. I hear the saws. In between these boundaries, is just enough space for the world to be wild. … Continue reading The Separate Life of Nature
I hid the chamber because it was dark, but it was not always that. It was never that until I dismantled my world and engaged in war. The chamber was once a green land, covered in ancient forests, mazed with rivers. After the war, the land stopped growing. Temperatures froze after toxic gasses left a … Continue reading The Chamber
when you have a good view with deep loving sounds of piano notes trodding across the air in a modest spring kind of way, though January is winter, it feels like fall sadness acts like a collection bowl, and we steep, stew, bob, a pool dense enough to lay on without sinking, the horn on … Continue reading Absorbing
may I go days on broth alone spiced with mushroom and veggies or just a can of beans over a burner and coffee for the day may I carry the sinking weight of my pack on my back please Noodles are good. Already? Now, it's noodles. next it will be four cars, two houses, three … Continue reading Today
such a tender love- spirit wind surrounding logic lifting a barge overhead or the world on a donkey's back spirit makes life able the way of the firefly rat-race like, or Trojan horse all reason stretching for hard answers, easy answers none that answer sometimes it's worth more to float in the breeze walk of … Continue reading Spirit
From the old, wood framed window, across from my bed, I saw a flock of white bellied geese fly by in their arrow formation in the sky. It was so early in the morning, the alarm clock still had over an hour's worth of minutes to tick through, but their demonstrative calls woke me so … Continue reading Morning Geese
Shelter, warmth, cradled by blanket. Aware of Shasta so present and awake. Moonlight bright, reaching spotlight full snow abounding space, mounds of white planets stacked under my feet. Black horizon burning stars surging blue. Glittered ice crisp crystals, silver glass, powdered dust layered in sheets of ivory fabric laced with fiber optics, carpet starched snowflakes … Continue reading Snow Mountain
Cliffs blanketed in clover and overgrown grasses, blackberry vines mound under the tall cypress canopy. Burgundy striped ice plant weave between wildflowers. At the rocky rim, winds cut away timeless sedimentary layers resembling sky blue and violet. The sky is lined in white scattered clouds, how grateful, how lucky, how safe standing between such a … Continue reading Climate Change
Light tinkers, crawls over lichen-painted oak and dangling moss. Up and higher it climbs, striding over darkness with a big transparent foot. Dawn’s white cuff forms around the softening moon changing night to broken shadows. Like a ladder, imprints of glowing squares topple over the treetop, the leaf top. Dew is a smoke screen under … Continue reading Morning Moments
Polar Bear, a distant mirage in the stars and clouds, strong nobel protector in those magic hours of bedtime stories, books, documentaries, legends. Slow luel of winter gazing, snow pouncing cubs, little tummies. I look down at the pink nose on a ballerina bear I just bought for my niece on her first Christmas. I … Continue reading Polar Bear
Glimpses Gentle currents of fall breeze curl over a patch of prairie land. Around the sun clouds drift casting golden mirages on browning ground. Long lost tales under crispy leaves tan, turning red before winter drawing near. Just like coves of blankets like a dome over my bed evermore dimming quiet and about silent, hibernating … Continue reading Now and Then
A little thump my foot landeath there, upon crackling foliage November bare Done the days of reckless care simpler treasures near, quiet listening ear Cleaner air and a softer stare by the creek bed and the hill Mountain dare do I go, I go up there Ask not for days in spring and tall tales … Continue reading Winter Dare
Pressures presently pressing on mind maximized with empty shell like ruins. I don't like this, so sue me, and you just might. If I go digging, my hair is orange, my lips are red, my body size twelve. Isn't a size six today a twelve in the seventies, and I'm glad of it, so sue … Continue reading Voice
Fever raging strikes inside bursting out through our eyes He ignores- we're enemies on a bloodied grass ground looking down but not seeing, shield and sword and tongue and fist Un-wielding, dark vicious bites and growls alike He blames me, me me, and me He broke the kitchen chair. I charge him like a she … Continue reading In Love Fighting
Once there was a creature, born from the infinite. Once there was a creature, born from the living and the dead. It came to being one starry night, in a field made of gold. Through the barren floor from cosmic light, grew a divide splendor sored. Through heaven and below the creature shouted and it … Continue reading The Living Creature (Fable in Song)
There, a green meadow, just beyond the wooded shade open grass, long blades, belly barren from winter one slow pausing step, watching, listening careful not to trust clear day too much sunlight over my nose moist, lifting eyes of beaded brown stare upon spring patches, watering mouth, luring, stepping, step bowing my head, I eat … Continue reading The Green Meadow
Kate Lunsford 