string quartet
my heartache
becomes sound
August 2012
my aging hand
scrawling out verses
for oblivion
storm-tossed clouds —
an old man ploughs over
his field of dreams
cringing moon —
my shadow stretches out
beyond itself
not so dead
a neglected rose bush
sprouting leaves
until dawn
in the belly of nothing
lacklustre night
as if
to remove doubt —
blossoms
this winter
where dwells emptiness?
speechless moon
out
of the sky —
winter
spring sunrise —
from the love-fire
smell of bread
coolness —
light falls where all
is music
viewing need
from his feathered nest ...
Ryan shrugs
shooting season —
a duck forgets
to duck
boundless sky —
evening traffic
streams by
out of mind
bulbs awaken
in the dark
heavy clouds —
a cuckoo nests
in the pine
on this path
once her shadow too —
returning spring
dead silence —
which of these strains
reveals you?
carefree spring —
for its defining moment
a frog leaps
swampy dawn —
a lone duck shooter
eases his pain
moveable feast —
birds of prey divide
the spoils
boundless night —
a filigree of words
unfolding
winter path —
lichens eat away
the signs
bitter fruit—
a little boy spawning
mushrooms
the cascade
of two thousand light years—
southern cross
sprung rhythm—
tomcats retreat
in alleys
groaning earth—
is this creation
giving birth?
morning veil—
the ache of lovers
torn apart
this winter
darkness spins webs
within me
cloudy eyes—
a distant twinkle
birthing stars
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