Sansa Stark



Count Up: 133 Days after Hurricane Maria Made Landfall & 147 Days after Hurricane Irma Made Landfall in Puerto Rico.

Little Poem of Love

sheer morning in the dunes

flutes in the wind

play a sequence of notes

across the horizon

the ocean constant

the ocean ever changing

cathedral of song

my heart

a strange divinity


opaque night of the full moon

imagine your hands

surrounded by voices

gliding shivering the seagrass

holy its inclination

silence within the circle

coquí on the windowsill

i have a sense of loosing

myself to hold you


bells in the wind

flare and dissolve

empty rooms and

shadows on the walk

my garden green and astonishing

the patience of a clock

hours withheld

those given with an open hand

conjunction of ocean and prayer



we have gotten beyond all that

shadows in the new moon

forsythia, lilac, wisteria, red bud,

dogwood and azalea in May

sun in equinox too soon

tulips, this is a letter

a plea to the spring sight of you

London in May, July in Syracuse

I am so hungry for the past

filled with lovers

at least then I had my pick

to bite the full throat of you

to sleep in your arms

to lay my hair across your face

to claim you simply

as one bends and picks a flower

red hibiscus in wind

my hands trembling

Slave To Love



We always played by candlelight.  Mahler, Rachmaninoff,

you cried as you brought the piano to orgasm.  Faster

and faster till at last the sky broke open.  Thunder

in the black keys.  You could hold the world in your hands,

or just my heart.  I loved you with such a simple

straight-forward passion for your voice, your eyes,

your hands, your miraculous hands.  Eyes closed,

shivering, unable to catch my breath, not knowing

if it was you or the music taking me.  Wings

caressing the keys, caressing my face.  It

didn’t matter.  You call my name in the melody, the harmony,

I forget my name, remembering only each note

as it enters me whispering, then exploding

like lightening.