8/22/25

 



space in the attic gave birth to hush.

then heat then hands. ages of dust fell from the hands.

dew on a faultless mountain.




8/21/25

 



sunlight is a room where nothing

is forgotten. a gate left open.

poems one would be glad to have written.




 



i see the child grieve in her mother's waters.

cracked basin. skeleton earth. rainbows

above the weak should end in iron. not gold.




8/20/25

 



like a red corpuscular heart. like the swim

in a midnight harbor. with the strength of curved lines.

spirals. i saw the rings of saturn.




8/19/25

 



who is ironweed. is the holy

motive of wildflower. green begins to rain

inside chrysalis. and within rain's iron interiority. a torch.




 



may your voice be the cord that

lowers my heart. through foam and stone.

into the flow of the ancient green.




8/18/25

 



the blue hills open a window.

i greet the poem with calloused hands.

silence ticking in the walls.




 



our few possessions are weighed leaving the bus.

some clothes, a few toiletries. all we will have.

whether dying forward. whether living back.




8/15/25

 



we stand at the edge of drowning.

the water is small. familiar and unknowingly

deep. silent fish slip through the night around us.




8/14/25

 



the path opens between the eyes of a deer.

a child discovers his infinite sky.

my hands stroke a wind that has lived out its life.




 



nothing raked the wind. no cry

split the trees. until

what was born fell silent.




8/13/25

 



rusts and weaknesses pool in low

lonely places. where i thought water would listen

to the mouth of every sigh.




8/12/25

 



not to know stones are alive, i

could not converse with silence.

my shadow would rest.




8/11/25

 



death will remove its shoes. and

the heart begin its return migration

alone. walking on water. breathing stone.




 



the small poem :: knife of brief life




8/10/25

 



another world's end.

dimensions of the box:

silence by silence by silence.




8/5/25

 



lift up the sheet where

sleep spills its blood.

ferns drip in the shade.




8/4/25

 



huge blue wings rise, fly. flow away.

listen and hear nothing.

lake unhurried. clouds fully awake.




8/1/25

 



such turmoil in dreams! so many

souls unliving! psyche's cauldron brewing

ashes, a beginning....




 



we begin our heart        with one wing