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
damped down
by unseasonal reign
failed haiku
hear now
within ocean rumble
a gull's hunger
the day
as it was to become
when I left it
in spring
the leap from noun
to verb
the faces that have been disappeared;
leaf crackle in the static
Black Saturday—
all things seen
since then
for the first time
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
Page 1 of 2
