life in the castle

the new queen:

what are these crazy waves?

the wind howling wildly

circling the tower

lifting up dead leaves from far away forests

slapping them against my window

i want you now

my body can not wait

i scream at reasonable people

patience?

i know the wind has never roared a word like that

and that morning:

running up and down spiral staicases

not quite knowing which tower you will be in

i look for animals too

the wild ones, that move through here

the old king:

castle spirit

wild animals up and down staircases

and

sorely impatient; not reasonable....

I see you in my lap.....and we are entwined

the wind is howling

but we are louder

the world underneath

my face on the cold linoleum

a white rabbit hops around me

cheerfully, more coming in

through the crack of the door

from the light into the dim lit room

dark blotches on the white

like blood splatters

that was before you ran cold water over my wrists

even before raindrops came out of your mouth

like words of poetry

witch of the woods

now you see her

now you don't

but know 

that

she's always 

up to no good

shorebirds / co-existence

keeping of wild places

where do our street people go?

when we fix up the clay cliffs

and the riverside

those people are my kin

they are my wild places too

living along a river

and not!

those peel river stickers

oil on oil on oil

stickers on cars that are driving

hmmmm

my garden

i work hard in the garden, just so you see, straightening out my life, is to be at peace possible?

fireweed shows all colors imaginable, stalks flying, branches scattered, blown down by the wind,

orange billowing around me, stars stinging my eyes.

writing is a curse, do describe a single moment spend with you would take a lifetime.

when i work hard maybe you see, i need to clean this up so you see who is inside of the me you see.

dandelions will never be eradicated from my path, lamb's quarters, poplars, squirrel grass, 

poisonous locoweed is toughest.

there is no place like my own garden, we listen to the aspen leaves, my aspen taller and stronger then all the rest,  like you. nothing trembling  about it, 

more like your thundering of the waves on the rocks. 

it's not the sex, it's the moments in between

and this is not my garden, it's a piece of perfect wilderness

a beautiful hot day

 a few weeks already we have seen the odd crocus blooming

next came the roses 

and now also there are lupines blooming, 

pink among dark purple of the fall fireweed 

blue in the midst of red and yellow

and that with brilliant starry skies at night

 i haven't seen the moon yet

wolverine

what a strange creature, it looked like a limping dog
for a while a few years back, the wolverine was my power animal.
i had  never seen a wolverine , but Don said i did

in Vancouver last weekend i saw a wild looking kind of dog. was it a coyote? do big grey coyotes live in urban Vancouver?