sun rises
is pricked by a mountaintop
leaks over Gossamer Valley

today felt tight
wrapped round like a string
a red sun
throbbing

i feel sideways
a walker about to faint
the cave of my knees
angling me so far
so far back

i feel
isn’t that enough
i feel harried helpless harangued cornered
i feel like a magician
pulling himself
from the hat

where does your path lead you
when do you lay down your load
travel we must through the deserts
through the vales and over mountains
do we do so to fail
no
press into darkness
lamp lit
press into futures
dimmed
amount to the weight of your soul
when
it’s heavier than its ever been

To lose the flying feather
– discover you fall
Is it your faith or
Strength
Which has failed you?

between my hands
are the ghosts whose faces
i cluttered with kisses
overlapping indignant stains
of how i loved

between my hands
are truths whispered
and hatreds revealed
souring the air
like ghosts

to submit the poem
above poems in your nest
a trifling bite of red string
stolen from wet earth
quake as you unsheathe its final thread
a home now barren of such frivolity

dance, little wren
mourn, sweeter dove
the poet parts with another sliver of heart

from deeper wells climb men of mirth
capacity for joy stretched by the load they carry
hear how they laugh
beneath burdens which broke backs as strong as theirs
hear how they sing
in groans of strength
in tones of pain
from deeper Wells climb the men of merry

in marsupial dreams
lingered we
-chaos but a muffled shout-
matters plugged by comfort
now raging raging
as we turn inward
for draughts of peace
avoiding the haunted eyes
avoiding the hands which hang down

twisted sleep
back arched.
the cat purrs in thyme and basil
summer dreams in winter gardens