degrees of separation

driving open window
60k’s an hour
a woman, smoke tainted
exhales on the side of the road
and i 50m later
breathe what she exhaled –
there is no you and in this
we are breath and earth
and water and life.
the same air that moves smooth
across vocal folds
to speak these words,
yesterday last gasped the fish
held fast in in the cormorant’s beak,
this morning sang
sunbird sweet
from the tree
at the edge
of the forest.





WhatsApp Image 2017-10-25 at 14.43.24
photograph by tamarisk-ray glogauer


let my hands
learn to pray
finger tips and palm
skin to warm pulse skin,
let them learn
postures of love
in this world.
hands that grasp and
lift and shape matter,
let them
carpal metacarpal
learn to speak
only love.
let my work
in the world
speak my love.


if i am to be
your prayer flag,
cloth blown to the sky
in air thinner than thought
then let my making be true.
let the hands that
make this cloth
spin this thread
know the taste
of soil and sun
and big season rain
in this cotton,
let the making
of my life
the warp and weft
of my living
be strong enough
to hold this prayer,
strong enough to be here
in the wind
with only love
for the world
in my heart.

WhatsApp Image 2017-11-22 at 10.45.57




WhatsApp Image 2017-11-06 at 10.55.42

a beaten woman cannot fall
cannot slip on the polished floor
cannot slam her face
on the corner of a wall
a beaten woman cannot fall.
don’t look away
her body and bones
will spit her story
amongst broken bits of teeth
even when fear has made her mute
even when lies have made her unworthy
don’t look away
from the dark rings
and broken skin
fingers swollen
silent in her lap
don’t look away – even when she does
because one day he will kill her
because one day she will say no more
her voice less than the wind
her voice the banshee wail
her voice quieter than deep flow river
her voice the ocean storm
one day she will say
no more, my body is tired
of walking this same path
with your fists on my back
on my head where hair can hide
the wounds –
my body is tired of telling your lies
let me go or let me die – i am tired.
everyday he kills her more
don’t look away
a beaten woman can only fall



and though it be
this morning rises
salt and cool
like ocean breath
and lays low
across hills,
calling mountain and
deep forest valley
to its mystery.
claiming both
sunlight and shadow
as its own.
still i am here,
claimed and unclaimable,
while geese wade steady
on fog wings
their beauty
ripping the sky.

WhatsApp Image 2017-10-23 at 08.44.06
Art by Steve Hurt.