imagine me

        a stranger

I consider myself to be a stranger everywhere.

                                                  – Albert Einstein –

imagine the wave

center it

           in a spherical lake


           in free space

waves of electrons


           with paper swans


           to the outer edge

                      of time

how could I ever tell you

I want to be a woman

I want

           to be a swan

rose print paper

petals scattered


           on fire

I want to fold myself

                      into myself

Published in the delinquent, issue 13 (www.thedelinquent.co.uk) and in The Far Field (http://kathleenflenniken.com/blog/)


long after

our wars

and our pollutions

fail to kill us


and the Earth we cling to

will return

to the dust

stars are made of

no whispers

no bangs

just cold heat

from a dying sun

a final embrace

of light

the small hopes

we have


into endless oceans

of time

nothing more

than graffiti

on the universe

saying only

we were here

we existed

even these

will be lost

among gathered dust

and debris

until they burn away


across the sky

of some distant planet

born eons after

Earth’s demise

a creature there

may find

an odd relic

and say to it’s fellows

these metals

these etchings

cannot be made

in nature

amid phosphorescent

flickers of dissent

this creature

will be laughed out of the room

into cool night air

where it will tilt

it’s sensory protuberance up

to better hear

the stars


and think


just maybe

we are not


Published in Farther Stars than These (www.fartherstars.com) archived 7/7/16


are you

what we would have been


the Annunaki

changed us

made us more like them


North American

great ape

our cousin lemur

are you

our past haunting us

our lost

potential made flesh

made fur

leaving loping tracks


our most secret dreams

Published in Aphelion (http://www.aphelion-webzine.com/sections/poetry.html) Issue 207, Volume 20 June 2016

wishing on a black hole

before the ender of time

finds us


           we had more

before all dust

is returned

to its singular source

let us add

a few splashes

           of color

to the unfinishable canvas

of understanding

Published in Bear Creek Haiku (www.bearcreekhaiku.blogspot.com) August 2015

house demolished

years ago

nobody told

           the tulips

Published in Crab Creek Review (www.crabcreekreview.org) 2007

Cento 1

It’s the dream we carry

From the Northern lakes with the reeds and rushes,

for the thoughts we share

not ready to give it over

to the eternal surf, to Time!

Swallow this, it will make you well.

Come stand with me, look forward, not back,

For this is love and nothing else is love,

           A Cento is a form where each line is taken from another poem.

           Olav H. Hauge, Borealis, translated by Robert Hedin

           Andrew Barton Paterson, The Black Swans

           Nikki Giovanni, A Poem of Friendship

           Naomi Shihab Nye, Boy and Egg

           Pablo Neruda, Always, translated by Brian Cole

           Ogden Nash, Adventures Of Isabel

           Oodgeroo Noonuccal, Let us not be bitter

           Robert Frost, A Prayer in Spring

Published in Five Willows Poetry (www.fivewillowspoetry.blogspot.com) January 2016


if it ain’t broke
        spread the juicy mantra of sprawl

blue heron takes flight
        behind slaughter     shrubbery

fire dire wire     clever moon

        Terra Luna
                on fire
        ablaze     watching

mulch of willow
blue dragonflies
                a smog
        of beady houseflies

the old ones spoke of this
                they said


This is the poem which Terra Luna was named for.


in the shape of a bird

it sings

rearranges itself

beneath trees
and shadow
are fluid

the song
is gone



Published by: Kind of a Hurricane Press, Tranquility issue

when gravity fails

my grandmother’s cat

adopted me

from her latest litter
was my best friend

we chased each other
all around our back yard world

he hid in the wood pile
liked the smell

I’d reach in
he’d bat my hand
as I tried to pull away
he’d nudge out
I’d bat at his paws

then he was gone

my dad said
he asked my brother
to drive him to the country

and leave him there

he found his way back
with a broken hip

they took him somewhere again

he didn’t come back


make themselves


to wings

to wind


there are only letters


incoherent marks


they fade

all that’s left

the listening

The Wolf

the wolf
thin and sly
you howl
twinkle in your eye
at the moon
in the midnight sky

the night
is your own
yours and yours alone
quick you run
through the wood of home

chill mist
hear your tune
you hunt
ghosts through the damp gloom
howls once more
at the pale full moon

This is one of the first poems I ever wrote.

naked we run

across the sky
gold and silver fishes
holding our breath