unspoken

i’ll speak of recipes, autumn tang in the air, the first yellow strands in the birch-green, starling songs inappropriately sharp for the time of the year; of all small things packed with the promise of bigness, significant only because it’s a background to the elephant not in the room; i will discuss pottery, maybe, poetry, […]

Read More unspoken

Fragilities

A butterfly drinks His only summer from bluebells. So subtle, so velvet his wings, The wind stops and draws A deepest breath. On that side of the multiverse Rainforest listens, Glaciers get ready, Piranhas sharpen their teeth. Only the white bones on a sunlit beach Remember no hurricanes.

Read More Fragilities

Samson

When it rains, The little cat sits in the window, Watching. The choices are ours to make And some are honest mistakes Like the rain falling in sheets. He does not know how Vapur rises, how long It takes for the clouds to grow heavy. The love we fall for, that Strikes like lightning, so […]

Read More Samson

warbling

the voice, over the green, beyond the smell of a stale river, a clear flute of the evening come early enter the leafy temple: the alders will give way, the aspens rejoice, the birches, smile and say — listen to lindens lisp see how the osiers preen up to be seen by you — the […]

Read More warbling

Sinking

Scatter the ashes Where the snows used to be, Where the summers sang Full of bees, Scatter the ashes When it rains without rainbows, When the leaves are dry, Crushed underfoot, Let the grey fly As the violets blossom, As the black grouse Dance in the fields, Take up the gritty Coarse, unwieldy substance, All […]

Read More Sinking

dry spell

Sometimes we snap. Like dry branches, like frost, And bury the others with us. Chips from a lightning-struck oak, Splinters of pine, unruly cones All in a heap, rushed To a conflagration. Sometimes the ragged Edges know only to tear, And heal all crooked. Flames lick at the dark Fluid inkiness Stabbed with stars And […]

Read More dry spell

green arches

Listen. Time passes. D. Thomas The green trajectory a leaf Leaves when floating to the floor, Cuts the air in arches. Time measures us all, Time allows us to fall Almost to the ground, and grinds Our memories for its tea. The green whispers in passing, Somersaulting through the landscape Of things that grow and […]

Read More green arches