how fine!
the strain of clinging
to dreams
June 2013
empty sky . . .
a vulture returns
to fuck all
darkening sky . . .
vultures keep watch over
a vale of tears
pas de deux . . .
a vulture outsmarts
the crow
seventh day . . .
vultures feed on the
afterbirth
a vulture
sniffs out the state
of Denmark
branching out —
vultures in committee
form a quorum
Irish stew —
finnegan's wake
of vultures
moon halo —
the vulture eyes
a ring finger
dawn parade . . .
a vulture flies itself
at half-mast
stricken ill
a vulture scavenges
extant dreams
summer grasses . . .
a vulture circles over
soldier's dreams
urban garden . . .
among skeletal trees
a vulture waits
autumn's end . . .
a vulture turns over
the pieces
twilight dusk —
a bell bird trembles
on its trill
cold silence!
it twists into the night
like a knife
mirror lake . . .
a mallard upends
within itself
an ode nightingale
pours forth its ecstatic heart . . .
do I wake or sleep?
night shelter . . .
a Samaritan's
extra mile
autumn dusk . . .
I pass by shapes
I should know
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