Memorial Day


(a poem I wrote for 4th of July, very slightly altered for today)

bright rays cling to rainbow flag 
waving proudly 
above rainbow flowers 
planted in late spring 
and flowing like Niagra 
from plastic pots 
green with chimes 
orchestrated by flag pole 
ropes slapping carelessly 
in the eastward breeze 
having skimmed the ocean’s 
skin until it’s saltiness still 
vaguely present 
collects on mine 
tethered lightly by invisible 
cords strung effortlessly 
between this breath and the next 
inhaling charcoal instead 
of gunpowder 
realizing that nothing today 
reminds me of the blood that fell



Distant Fire



night sky pierced 
distant fire
extinguished long ago
all of history meets my eye
my small eye
with the day’s flickering desire
hurrying to meet that long ago flame






The frequency of your laughter

A singularity

A Sound

Wrestles me to the ground

Pins me

Helpless with

Joy shot into being found

Alive – right here,

Right now

Belly-aching tear forever after



Indelible and Definite


Encaustic and Mixed Media by Rowena Meyer-Allen

Each time I look in the mirror
I see her in firm shape of jaw
Soft curve of lip, angular ledge of cheekbone, piercing eye
Her hips have graced mine with far more
Than I wanted – more than I used to be
Reminding me her imprint is indelible and definite.

When she was wasting away
I would bathe her and think – I will never
Let this happen to me but as I ripen
To the age she fell from life,
Shaken free from family by cruel mortification,
My body continues its steady metamorphosis,
Each morning a deepening assurance
She now lives right here, within me

Her softer essence cherished but in all honesty,
Her harsh beauty terrified me
And it still does. I resisted her in life,
Grieve for her in death and now,
Struggle with physical form making me wonder
If this body too, will betray me.

If Only


Step in

Yes, in to

free fall waiting

look before you

leap without wondering how

you’ve been measured

equally afraid

of the distance



each smile

invitation to stomach

flip relationship

ask mirror to return

but if not  – open

because the world

aches to land here

if only

if only



Her Theory of Relativity

She String

She moves through life at the speed of sound
chord progression
and staccato
pheromone and metronome
each year ending as a movement
Her Symphony of Chaos into order
each note lived in unexpected harmony
as she glides in strokes of string theory
Her universal physics of vibration and relative timing