New Year's Day
the heat of the moment
all over us
January 2014
trickling stream . . .
stones at rest gather
smoothness
park bench—
yesterday's warmth
old news
waxing moon —
my shadow lingers
over hers
night wind —
the sound of light
on the wick
gracing
a patina of grace
a stain marks
the loss
ancient one,
your voice too sounds
of cicadas
kite flying
I strain beyond
my words
morepork,
keep watch with me
through ancient light
farflung stars
darkness mantles me
in its wings
farflung night
a morepork mantles
a cold egg
a bird cocks its head
at nothing — within this hush
a priest breaks the bread
no mere
patina of grace;
well-worn aves
my footprint
soled, souled, sold
silting up
rising tide
eyes awash with the moon
two by two
my footprint
as if it matters
I once am
keeping still
I deepen my roots
in the void
wild honey —
how the clover glows
in her eyes!
what of it?
cherry blossoms
and the moon
gaping wound —
a poem
without the moon
awakening
from such light caress
a peony's folds
under the moon
her hands cup the gift
of her self
haiku moon —
a morepork recites
to its own
never alone . . .
blanket man paces out
the southern cross
freckle-face
her wrinkling nose becomes
newsworthy
another moon —
still the otherness
of her body
breathstop . . .
a praying mantis
shifts weight
roadkill —
the fly-blown voice
of the unborn
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