the breath snatched
ever-now on the brink
of sea and sky
June 2017
grave undertaking
this consciousness
drained of words
hush-breath night
for now the child's star
oblivious
a butterfly
alights on the whisper
of being
an image of self
breasts
the milky way
desolate shore . . .
how are we to finish
our interior monologues?
midwinter bluff
I skirt 'round the edges
of my eye pressure
3°C
I feel my way
into being
midwinter dream
my writing hand
queries its age
stillness —
i write up
a storm
haiku moment . . .
look here I am
being in time
stridor —
for the time being
I breathe tui
in-gasp stop —
a reed thins out
my prosody
micromoon
with quiet answers
to dark questions
full bodied
a micromoon crests
dusky sounds
bulbous bloom
a blonde bombshell bursts
my bubble
leaf seen through
a bloodline ends
at the wrist
half moon light
a fading bird tweets
the coming of dusk
final impenitence
a septuagenarian plans
to take the world with him
for a time
just the almosts
of Op. 127
snail trail
twisting a treatise
out of time
after rain
the sound of water
filled by moon
