Ellen Porter
2/13/06
Return

Twelve blackbirds
huddle on a wire
warming their feet.

I journey below
entering, leaving
the city.

My thoughts circle and dip
thighs tattoo a rhythm
fingers explore
rubbing one another
smooth as stone.

Each trip it is the same.
I travel the overpass
the blackbirds
wait.



Ellen Porter
11/29/07
Silence and Separation

This morning I rise early
like on so many other days.

But today my soul is ready
to turn away.

Silence and separation are
what I crave,
not soulfulness or wisdom,
not union with the Friend.

Just leave me alone to feel
the autumn wind on my coat,
the cold
battering my stubbornness.