tiny poems by Grant Hackett
why can't the touch of a thorn
be divided into infinite light
and why can't i grow light
from a seed
when all that is dust returns to song
where will i be found
upon the death of the mortal vine :: shall my veins grow new wine
when we turn against the sea
how many deserts appear
when the poem sheds its final skin
why does one still have to wait for dawn
for how many lives after i am gone
will my heart come searching for me
how many years have fallen
along the path between two autumns
is the leaf falling through my shadow
also my shadow
and when my rain bleeds to death
whose poppies are fed
when night coughs
can you taste your birth
are my skies too many to bury
why is shadow the shortest route
to unexpected light
where is the river
to cleanse my oceans of sorrow
how many dawns
have tied a prayer
to my rose
why are there species of flame
found only in our dreams