The Barn

The barn,

     although young, 

sloped into herself.  

Where most barns

    crumble in straight 

lines, she softened 

    in curves.  

And although the fall 

     undoubtedly occurred in 

an instant, 

the appearance was such 

    that it had happened 

over many years of

    gently letting go.  

Certainly she didn't look like barns should.  

But her beauty 

    would make any 

warm body weep

   and draw them into 

The tender earth surrounding her.  

Tender Angles

The snow
             flake, so
                       soft, melts
                                      right through

The misplaced
              skin where
                           there used
                                        to be
                                              a breast

"Easier access
                   to the
                         heart," she
                                        says, floating

inward to
             the beating
                           and with
                                   first contact
                                                  expands, wrapping

Her angles
               around the
                             tenderness becoming
                                                              one
                                                                   with her.