Friday, April 29, 2011

Spring comes harshly

seeds of grackle ice
skitter, lost in wind-blown sand
sun-blind, screeching thaw

Rachel Westfall
April 29, 2011

Thursday, April 14, 2011


I want to dream of pretty things,
and draw them up my arm.

Put feathers on my necklace,
and beads of glass and ice.

With bells, I'll softly jingle
like a dancer's hammered treasure,
thin copper, slice of dawn.

Rachel Westfall
April 14, 2011