April 2015

to the sea
the gathering rush
of the many
the weight
of softening rocks
at dusk
 
mid-autumn light —
from retrospective paintings
colour rustling
secret room . . .
my shadow merges
into me
word spell . . .
leaves conjure bird song
calling my name
star night —
just words mapping
the 'I'
shining cuckoo —
manifest destiny
on the prowl
colonial fall —
every man jack
on his knees
moon, hill, mist . . .
I am 
what I conceal
ahh! wide eyes —
the bubble of a word
on a baby's lips
bows
of bobbing boats
to the moon
midnight sojourn
tap tap tapping
hidden springs
morning fog —
the flesh of shadows
cast by words
my daughter!
for this moment
none younger
for this world
a leaf and its tree
drift apart
in sea roar
eyes distilling
stillness
not quite real
lightning and thunder
while we chat
a squirrel carcass
fills out 
its own shadow
ripening
on the ground
figs
 
within
the space of thought
pomegranates
into a river
the dark matter
between stars
 
plucked clean
the plumage of
concealment
shortfall
with each year 
I am less
curling sunset
the death toll
of leaves
 
puzzlement
clouds eyes gazing
at clouds
autumn tide —
which way tugs
stronger?
a camera
marking the death-knell
of becoming
the same fingers
flickering still
to the death
of light
mountain light —
mouthing words until
they do not do

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