wildwood
/snow
like shaman
and fallen angels
relegated to the shadow
of deep woods
snow
like shaman
and fallen angels
relegated to the shadow
of deep woods
breeze
as kisses
setting snow free
of bone and oaken
rest
muted moonlight –
I've hushed my heart
a million times
no longer a lover
for which to atone
no longer a flight
to beg of stars
simply the seasons
plating opals of light
the trail grows cold
so maybe a little fire
for these last prayers
and a worthy place
to rest in peace
overnight
winter anew
daffodils afforded
no ease
and pine boughs
now plié
in communion
with the grounded
every thing
once again
muted
and cinched
unto the whimpers
of spring
cantaloupe light
finally slicing the black
horizon –
winter's adieu
of feather and hymn
timid
shape of hope
covering what has turned
fallow –
gratitude for the third
day
blue jays
with strident throats
so cruelly near
my soft ears
for spring
sunlight crowning
over frosted roofs
momentous songs
of birdsong and birth —
everything has wings
birdsong
pregnant with summer
adding measures
to creation’s unending
opus
swans
overhead pairs
higher than wood smoke
lower than
stars
dawn lit
pine tree
spring drifts
between us
chimney smoke
through sun beams –
spring rushes and floats
geese honking
ahead of the storm –
sometimes happiness
is not knowing
the whole
story
night shifting
the gaze of saints
from stars to hissing
embers –
closed gates open
unto mystery
hour of gardens
and rain –
zero difference
between watering roses
and bleeding in the dark
street
tilting her head
towards his heart
stars turn to gin
and the planet empties
she calls it:
tetelestai
sky and lavender
quivering at the horizon
this other me stitching
stories and dying of shame
with no need
for a kiss
cobblestone knees
and spiders spinning
in corner door frames
breezes sweeping
freckled shoulders
and the remembrance
of what grows
from slow fire
veins
losing touch
with her –
never condemned
to happiness or ease
we strain
to stay
warm
no syllables
left to travel
the dirt road
fallen trees
pushed aside
deer tend the rest
I am dust
on this way
home