Between a mossy outcrop
and a bedrock mortar.
I watch a neighbor’s wood-smoke rise
toward the contrail
She takes the lead with unaccustomed
spryness, remembering this route
through sagebrush, bitterbrush,
mules-ears drying like so many summers
Her wedding picture’s with the recipes
for meatloaf. Months before Mother died
she saved this lock, but kept unmatching keys.
The tooth fairy in her necklace
of teeth, and tooth earrings
and a gown as shimmery as spit,
takes them from underneath
Taylor Graham was born Judith Ann Taylor in Pasadena, CA in 1944; her mother was a public health nurse, her father a doctor. Her first love was her Morgan mare, Molly B.
After she was introduced to Shakespeare's Julius Caesar at Wm. S. Hart high school in Newhall, poetry became her passion. She studied languages in college, got a masters in compa ...