the night agapewith a poem's caesura . . .light before dawn
distant voices . . .the apparition of nightbehind the door
morning mass —dewfall stirs throughthe wine
twilight bird!through the bush a windshaping sound
morepork!across the nightwe are one
a mute child finds it for me— the way back
a cool night —my daughter's moon flutterson the fridge
after duskpurple light risesfrom the stream
cloud-robed moon . . .it stalks me alongthis path
autumn rain —as the chatter ceases,only her breath
gone!love-lies-bleedingin the mist
coolness!the dark underbellyof a rainbow
grinding axesa sharp tongue rubs me upthe wrong way
autumn wind —a butterfly growsmore detached
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