some days fold joyfully
full of promise
like moonglow over the hills
welcoming tumbling stars
to bowing grasses
blowing in the night breeze

some days carry songs
ancient and true
through branches reaching
for warm sun’s enfolding grace
breaking breath and heart
with hopeful melody

in a nod from the clock
I rose
without a derivative thought
bathed
to the tune of an eclipse

while they were all busy
with superlatives
and cosmos theories
I held my teeth in
with my tongue
wanting to cry out
since it’s been too long

am I not glowing anymore?

I can’t gather
what they don’t see
how I’m burning within
and why
can’t I go
find me
unless
that’s a myth too
like the moon and her girdle

kept the flower
tucked in my hair
letting petals fall
like rain
on a sunny day

walked softly
in the woods
talking leaves
bending our shadows
footfalls like drumbeats
primal and driven

rode quietly
in the train
watching blur of trees
rush past
recalling the gasp
of our pleas in the dark

plucked my lips
between your teeth
pushing clear thoughts
like song carried
into foggy night

my trains are always leaving
whistles form a lament
we’re all alone
we choose our landscapes
brick or loam
the rest is smoke

When time is set aside
for hardware and recipes
and difficulties arise
remembering why
you liked burning wood.
It’s no joke to swallow whole
days filled with hazy moths.

Want outshines split fence posts.

Walking perimeters concentrically
tallying stumbles along a path
kicking licked stones aside.
Nothing epic in a cooling pie.

Playing numbers eschewing letters
in games too painful
gaining trail dust with shuffling.
Alone is not better with large bites.
Perhaps that’s reason enough
meeting and parting
soaring hawks marking our time.