Frances Madrid Poems

Time for wind to whip through the alcove
Trees, sing to the stars
Dancing around the heavens
With their ancient grace
...

Memory has an often subtle way
Braiding with strands of moments
Knotting at aimless ends
Its prodding leaves blocking any glimpse
...

I have a weakness for denim,
the way it wears you
like a deliberate attitude
of long-legged insinuation,
...