1/21/17




what is the sound of an island of night    in a sea it cannot name



1/20/17




coming home at twilight falls away    and i am aware of the wings that hold us down



1/19/17




in the perfect darkness of what is to become    is there a name for the mother of dawn



1/18/17




will the landscape of the last dawn arrive gently    in the mirror of a voyage without end



1/16/17




my black years fall around me, blood of the night    a body without sky without stars



1/15/17




with my ear on the ground i am singing to this     what dies in a man when he lives



1/14/17




in pockets of darkness forgotten to the world    may your dissolving have its way



1/13/17




for all of those who are hidden from you    draw near to the dark and listen



1/12/17




you went looking for your voice at sunrise    silence growing brighter and
             the pleasure of death to go through

1/11/17




before there is nature    when the world is half spoken    in whom shall the secret lie



1/10/17




an emanation from the lost and the mists    and the nothing i am doing comes to unrest



1/9/17




there is an ancient animal breath in the night    that is night that is refuge    that is mine



1/8/17




strange fires seek their deep    as the milk that surrenders her breast



1/7/17




the sea scent of heaven and of who will awaken there    when at last i disappear



1/6/17




in a world of other seas    will an older darkness still lift the waves



1/5/17




the faces i have never seen before, and the faces we wear    not to lose each other





1/4/17




who would alter the root of light    but the stars must first die out






...or to lose your way in the darkness    swelling with tomorrow's death    ?



1/3/17




in the dark life i've just finished    a single light is left on



12/4/16




and yet who has noticed how the one left behind becomes the final light



10/25/16




how near to what my heart has done is the warmth of the stranger's mouth



10/18/16




who will guide us through the days ahead    is to live newly awakened






the sleeper under the pine remembers what is young    the dark that steps out at dawn





10/15/16




the way the last walk hurries grass    is where the ash of the rose will fall






silence into water into blood into light    is to ask a simple question






how old shall we be when the white sail of the moon leads October through everlasting change



9/30/16




what if the other side of humankind is only thinner air








if you have made me small enough   the whirl wind must






what has died is kept in this city in ginkgos along the streets



9/13/16




the memory i left in another place    is it destroyed, or sleeping



9/11/16




a night train rises up inside of sleep    carrying the one left behind when we were born



9/8/16




year after year of pokeberries :: their ripening barely heard



9/6/16




in the pure mist of a distant mountain    the nest not seen for years






when night is full of holes    will i see what is in me from the first day of living



9/1/16




can a pine from the sea ever fall to the earth






if light is grave and motionless there is no distance to lying down







what i do not have looks for me :: and there is no place that is not someone else



8/31/16




time has come for that bit of life gone missing to turn my cornfields pale



8/23/16




windowpanes across a whole life overlooking the mists and cliff



8/22/16




even a heart in the hands of its children will grow snowy white



8/20/16




though the water is down on its knees :: many pass in a dry rain



4/25/16




my heart walks in sunlight and feels itself fade—
while chimes turn wind
into creation



4/23/16




from my window i studied mulberry branches—
             dormant rhythms of nights and days,
of unrepeatable worlds to be



4/22/16




the sole of the foot
treads on beauty—
those smooth tracks
across the sea
i couldn't
have made and
cannot follow



4/21/16




under other skies
            is there deeper longing
for the damp electricity from which we come



4/20/16




i hear the blood ask us
                         if we are alive—
the heart remembering what it does not recognize






      Vanishing points


where the apple tree rose
            from the earth
when i learned to live as a soul