March 2014

Ash Wednesday —
a first rain dampens
graveside dust

across the score
a cicada's
last note

drawn out scrawl
of a late cicada
on the canvas

this morning
the open window
of her eyes . . .
I emerge from darkness
with gold-flecked wings

cattails - May 2014

lenten retreat . . .
a sparrow cocks its head
into silence

last cicada . . .
the silence crackles
around it

first light
the fall from it
all around

losing heart
a loss of words
fills the air

soundless by starlight —
the poet sipping darkness
from a mirror's eyes

scented night —
a moth enters the hush
between stars