Joan Woodbridge Poems

adamantine density
inner halls so steeply narrow

how much substance must I shed
...

Things one does when one's lover is away:

- stand in the freezing wind waiting for a bus
...

how it began is unclear
innocence and earnestness
the impossible 'Why? '
...

labyrinthine confusion
intuition runs about three days ahead of feeling
and for us
there is little love to gentle the edges of this land
...

I
She who waits
She who is asleep to the present and lives in the future
She who waits to be awakened, defined, completed, validated
...

What you Own:

these small cells complete of life
...

Breath

Pneuma

...

Winter is working us now
the subtle air holds
a hint of snow
and we are captured
...

Inky art of the broad-browed night:

the moon has fallen
in a puddle of water
...

arching magnificently into air
I swim my being
between bliss and necessity
calling
...