Thursday, July 27, 2006



I know it is a trick of
low cloud cover and street lights,
some sort of urban smoke and mirrors,
but it's eerie to see the sky
glow white on a moonless midnight.

There are river rocks in my pocket
onyx, smooth as glass -
silent reminders against my thigh
unlike this heaviness
that hovers over me,
this inexplicable tightness
I can't shake.

I've learned to be comfortable
with my inner idiosyncrasies,
come to appreciate the peace
found in a patch of toadstools
and the sadness in spring.

There is no less beauty
in dying than in life
and I've chosen to love one
on my way to the other.


  1. Erin, this is really beautiful. I love the sky at midnight, the rocks in your pocket...well, I love it all.

  2. "chosen to love one on my way to the other"

    E, ya kill me. Blow me away with stuff like this.

    But then again, ya always have.


  3. Amazing, Erin. The last part took my breath away.

  4. that was a nice ride
    thank you

  5. Man. I love this. I really really do. I do think though the last part to be a different tone, calling for italics. I think. But I also think, without a doubt, this is the good stuff, for sure.

  6. I'm saying just the last two line. I thought you'd like to know I'm finishing this up with a crotch full of coffee. I forgot, I guess, that I had a cup in my hand! fuck! later.

  7. Erin, I love this poem, especially "come to appreciate the peace found in a patch of toadstools and the sadness in spring" it speaks to me :) Leigh

  8. A wonderful poem Erin. It's nice to be comfortable with your inner self, and nice to 'appreciate the peace found in a patch of toadstools'. This contrasts nicely with the eerie urban sky. Natural vs 'unnatural'.

  9. Erin, these are wonderful gatherings from the garden of contradiction. I'm glad to know we are neighbors.