o, exalted daughter of dagda
passionate penetrating flame
arrow of seething fire
shot straight and true
and oh most salient

your brilliant burning heart
so remarkably intrepid at
encasing folly and fear
and hope and hearth
in precise syllables

your spirited voice enchanting
demanding and nearly as deft
as your ever healing touch
at texturing trembling
love’s finest adjuration

in the rising winds of winter
growling hungry harrowed
against these thin panes
i hear your keen lament
for murdered ruadan

but the earnest hush of solemn night
translating your crackling flames
is truth enough for we who remain
of how zealous love can be
and how enduring


lost lament

do you remember

when my mother was dying
far away and you were safely
ensconced in your shelter
of self-righteous indignation?

do you recall

how i wept such bitter tears
some for her, some for you
choosing at last to seal myself
steeling this core of regret?

do you remember

what it felt like so long ago
to be in love, and in longing
to embrace the heart and soul
of your husband, conditionally?

do you understand

now in these final moments
how easy it should have been
to mourn the simplest lament–
rather that than this emptiness?

Salt Lake City 15 Oct 2012