not enough time given to the care of clouds.

or to the voice of 3 am.

i leave the road for a path

through woods, leave the path, follow flowing water,

then further. moon.

mouth that swallowed clouds.

 

may i live as the oak from seed to lightning

 

spring leaves. painted a small red. 

almost lost in slightly taller sounds. 

death process turned upside down.

 

windy evening. colors too weary

to walk the world. stones too weary

to mount a wall. a poem washed in shadow.

 

the black suit fits.

for three days.

ferns drip in the shade.

 

rain spreads from the east. from the face in a window

where he might have lived. ages of dust fly from his hands.

dew upon  a faultless mountain.

 

 

loving each moonrise does not redeem life.

nor fishing a river after rain.

there's an empty moment banging against the wall.

after miles of darkness, what wants to be said?

 

numbers fail. a knot begins.

shadows clothe themselves in skin.

the prayer bleeds each time she prays.

banners tear in the absence of wind.

 

beyond an open gate, hanging chimes.

cold gives birth to snow.

where will we go when earth returns to her home?

 

in that which is sown i have lived.

upon concave walls etched visions of life.

while birth stood near. held a branch of light.

 

how far is the reach of a flash of darkness

how can a tree without limbs guide the sun

doesn't milk mixed with night form blood