December 2015

what is
and what isn't
in being
seen
way back then
the little caught
in a breath

behold the darkness mooning over us

the moon is the viewer's and the fullness thereof

forcing the issue may I will

lightning flash
into the other side
of blueness
listen now!
a decomposer sounds out 
the end of sound
lost to light 
still in longing
solstice 
another blank page
my pen tap-dances along 
themes of exclusion
old history
a frog delves into
herstory
all at sea
hand scars become
a life-line
darkling roost
some bird without a name
calls me out
within their meaning
within so few syllables
these whispers of breath
it dawns
the pre-cum of light
in wakening
in Auchwitz cave
the fingernail etchings
of terror
always the beginning
before
the never ending
scattered clouds
the expanse of space
I occupy
US and them
right up to the last 
strumpet
hear now
within ocean rumble
a gull's hunger
the day
as it was to become
when I left it
the faces that have been disappeared;
leaf crackle in the static
Black Saturday—
all things seen
since then
for the first time
peace-time spring
the future roars through
cumulus skies
school recess
we scan the clouds
for zeroes
first school day
on the classroom wall
Winston Churchill

bloodlines drawn out into battle-lines into blood

oil slick
over and under
a holy fire

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