May 2012

pining
for Basho ...
the pines

forsaking pines
Ferdinand learns
something else

by moonlight
lovers' fingers mesh
into dreams

for tonight
let us all be dying ...
radiant cloud

nonchalant
the cat grooms itself ...
cesium rain

dew drops
tracing the filaments
of dreams

autumn morn ...
light grows crisp
underfoot

perigee moon
brightly prophesying
the death of stars

Easter joy ...
even more closely
out of reach

a child places
a finger to her lips—
God whispers

swelling clouds
brood detachedly
over death -
the life that escapes
from my every pore

river fog—
he opens his poem
to silence

greengages—
sweetness ripples
her lips

fifth Sunday ...
silence wells up
in the clouds

spring storm ...
the river of stars
flooding her

dawn maiden ...
the long day's journey
into night

autumn love ...
moonlight silences
the rumpled bed

youthful blush ...
Oh! Celia, Celia,
Celia shits!

after the dew
sunrise ravishes
the rose

autumn sky ...
celebrating
cloud masses

shooting season ...
a refuge of ducks
lower their sights

howling winds
gnash at tossing dreams ...
sea debris

unfolding
from a crumpled bed
this aftertaste

wordless poem ...
birdsong brings relief
to my longing

moonlit night ...
the mottling of goose bumps
on her thighs

a moth sails
the widening gyre ...
candle flame

hidden depths ...
a dragonfly skims
what I cannot

pretending
to forget, I gasp at
a rainbow

purple rain ...
casting words adrift
into God

river fog ...
my hands trace out
what has gone