moon is when your hands release    what the corpse leaves behind

the moon they are burning everywhere—now how much nowhere is left inside

from the other side of the light you left    are your windows heavy with snow

river reach    where trout hear me breathe    a deep to follow

inside out of echo :: mother of beings i do not know

moon undressed    the man i lost    looked at naked me

blood rising from the smoke of the man i was :: i'll be back in another memory

all things go on in the track left by dust    thus i feel where the dry country wails

when you've salted the sea and schemed what no one attains    i'll tell me who i am

the struggle to fall out of sleep    when dawn is the bed of being someone else

past the past of where i was born    is the September of wanting to take someone there

just these hands in which i cannot stop living the little good    done wrong

in marvelous silence death's seedling grows    and blinds what's hard to know

the cry being crushed is the depth of the dream no one is interested in living

work in the fog of daylight    hardly know who i am in the river of night

how the invisible can begin to hum    is what the maple in my cornfield knows

the field your dreams work knows no light until death scratches an eye

just the mirror that painted her face    there is no one else in my privacy

most beautiful daybreak he ever saw    was a sky created by others

time to fold up the unfinished world    swim away into the night

the bones of my birth fetched a price    became the whisper in another's life

listening in another's arms knows all my heart is made of

deliver me from clothes and skin    from wind and the crow brought in

whose bones in the ocean of today have guided my hand beyond

walk in a small garden that maybe someone came to fear