Wednesday, December 16, 2020

when listening to the sound of your voice

 blue sky 

a goddamn sun so bright 

the white

of the snow stuns 

cardinals drip into lemondrops 

bewitched by daydreams & two o'clock 

it happens 

the tumult of delight 

the snap of cold against images trimmed in velvet birds 

i am here 

a feathered & shadowed thing 


and smelling of spring 

Tuesday, December 15, 2020


    the way snow falls always has made me cry 

who thought of that? 

that it should glide downwards in direct ratio to the wind & white 

slanted rhythm of day following night 

transforming warmth to cold 

soft to hard yet soft still 

but oh so biting in its relentless knowledge 

how to forgive the unforgivable 

how to muster the courage for another day the color of quiet 

how to hold the light & the blue of age 

   the way snow falls 

press your hand against the glass & feel the sharpness 

cooling blood lost in the labyrinth of trying 

how slow muscle talks to bone these days 

how hollow seems the heart 

yet how bright the fire 

    the way snow falls 

Monday, December 14, 2020


 just a jittery tremble in the branches of the apple tree 

naked of leaves 

stark against the morning white 

snow makes everything sharp 

cold brilliant wakefulness 

trapped & succumbing to a moment 

dropped lemons upon the floor 


Wednesday, December 2, 2020


 the spell is brief 

cast upon the crimson stone 

i can hear the river folding from here 

coldness pierces like diamond light to bone 

i wait no more for magic 

but make my own 


amber'd ghost of the shallow river and moonlight confessions 
preferring the mask to the vulnerability of love

touched by the deepness of blue and the shutter of a thousand suns

you run

bound by regret that wells the dam, breaks bones
pierces the heart of the wild

Monday, November 16, 2020


 corona full 

linen-stardust lined life 


                      I find you 

    in the scent of seasons 

amidst the change of colors, of wind ... and time 

in the luster of these hazy days 

pools of light 

lie amidst the blue 

tangled in autumn's fire 

are we captor or captive?

isolated upon the hour hand 

i know nothing of how we got here 


here is this 

                season of us 

pressed into surrender by hourglass rides & fast cars

again & again we return to wonder 

return to the pools

of a crisp blue morning 

tethered to stars 

Friday, November 13, 2020

dear fire inside ....

polishing the rocks 

tumbled & divine 

the dress was silk-raw-lichen green 

movement directed by moonbeam 

one + one = one 


drala is strong here 

but dharma weakening against the sun 

press repeat 

to taste the honey 

folded enfolded felted fire spun 

no ground 

we are sky