a beginning sort of day

crawled out of this morning;
i was blowing the dead leaves
from its still downy hair
when two new twinned
lives grinning arrived
in the backseat of
Somebody’s dreamcatcher
and with fingers like
microscopes
examined every
strand of me; i carried them
like pistols on each hip,
aimed at the world and all
the cries of its
renewal.

unnatural

three days ago in a southern town
which never saw snow, two inches
fell through the bewilderment of
a false spring; a young mother
devoured the bodies of her-not-quite-still
pups and the chanak screamed into the void
left by a depleted heart,
his eyes the milky color of guilt unborn.

snow steps

*”chanak” (also tyanak, tianak) is a creature from Filipino folklore, which, according to some, represents the malicious spirit of aborted infants and is said to prey on birthing mothers/newborn babies.