Enveloped

An envelope of sound and light,
the least a person ought to wear
the day he dies. For some night

takes them before time, earlier
than night ought. And some don’t feel
that they’re prepared, like sea-bound water

not yet there, dawn light caught still
behind the cliff, brook sound too slight
for day, a live trout in a wicker creel.

I am the author of two chapbooks: Jill (Tamafyhr Mountain Press, 2007) and Imitations (Chiron Review Press, 2008). My poems have appeared in Callaloo, Christian Century, Collages and Bricolages, Iris, The Laurel Review, Mid American Review, Phoebe, River Styx, Sou’wester, The Madison Review, and the anthology Chick for a Day, as well as in many other periodicals. One of my poems was nominated for a Pushcart Prize.