there and there
so near still
a mayfly’s was
September 2016
finger-felt
what the pine
had to teach
this prosthesis
re-membered
word by word
in-between
breath-wide moments
nothing but
and still
leaden words sink me
ever deeper
this endless hunt for meanings,
finally a kind of curious greed
even here
a cheshire cat
of words
theory of everything
the grand design
filling in the gaps
left after words
haiku
as you read
an old silence becomes
audible once more
in the beginning
a lack of words
for nothing
unbidden bird
the name for it
births itself
night of nights
a smoldering wick
voices the prayer
dead calm
before the beginning
and after . . .
coffin thuds –
the sound of forgetting
beginning
setting sun
my vowels lengthen
with my words
all about spring release
spring
as it is called
out of step
lost for words
fallen rimu dragged
through the mill
a grain of salt
Lot's wife looks back
to the twin cities
spring tide
words somersault
in the wind
light of spring –
this longing to become
a buttercup
a -
dna or morse
to a t
all around
the impression of self
where light falls
I score
I know not what
with words
fantail
in the flutter
of her
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