Bio

Born at midnight, fish were spotted on the ceiling, and language, 
all song and curlicues. 
Mother was a pretty ribbon, father, a painted merry-go-round horse. 
I hunted arrowheads, 
watched water-skeeters on the surface of a pond. 
I had a pet chameleon with half a tail that lived on my windowsill. 
Somewhat abstract, I loved swimming pools, the deep end, 
kissing boys on the high school hill, 
listening to the sound of distant trains in the middle of the night—
I walked in hot mud 
ate pie cherries from a tree above a creek, 
was baptized for the dead, read Edgar Allen Poe, 
could crack codes, enter caves and sestinas. 
When asked, what do you want to be when you grow up? 
I always answered, “the weather girl.”