illness in the weeds could become a way to live and dream

a black daybreak for those whom we bury

the sky took my life to explain that nothing flew away

by what thread will i live when the sun unravels

may the origin of leaves remember its time within me

only your mother when she was young
and the world nowhere in sight
yet changed

are the missing pages of my shadow :: poet or priest

inside the dying of my apple tree
the sky is cold
the earth is green

moon lies in its bed :: staring into the fire

understands what i do not :: stops the knife from bleeding

crossing cold fields i am part of the sun