A Book

This is just a book

Not a judge
an enemy
or a vengeful lover
lying in wait
to point out mistakes
I cannot edit

It is just a book

It could even be a friend if I choose

It is still just a book

I can write it
or not

Stardust

My daughter asks me where she came from
I tell her she was a star in the heavens
that looked down and chose me to be her mother
just as I looked up and chose her

Now, we want nothing more
than to rest in the Big Dipper
embraced by the Great Bear
sung to sleep by Aurora

She likes the idea that we are born of stardust

Two Owls in the Night

We soar from one midnight to another in noiseless flight
you, resting in the greenness of leaves
content in shadows
I, nesting on branches that barely bear my weight

On chilly nights when you are cold
I long to hold you under my feathers and keep you warm
stay on this delicate branch, this twist of fate
where we have landed serendipitously

But you move on your own wind
attuned to seasons
I was never meant to shape

At winged-length distance
we go gently into the night
observe rats and bats and cats
together

Hold vigil over other worlds
friends and lovers
in silence
borrowed from our own oak tree

As night leans towards dawn
you draw me closer
extending a feather so soft
it makes the stars reappear!

There is no need to rage
against the dying of the night
for the new day, with its light
delivers a quiet promise

Here, where we have landed
on the delicate branch of this mighty oak
we can rest now –
basking in the sunshine that is ours alone