I watch along dark paths
crouched
head cocked to his whistle
a tune haunting the spillways
and clover knots
seeping from his stretched throat
oh, birds ache in silence in his call
while all else shudders into shades and keens
the first clipped choking howls of mourning
echo past with his sliding trousers’ scuffs
and pontificating staff
his shadow never leaves this place though he continues humming then whistling
humming then whistling

With you at my chest

I could conquer all men

So rest while I caress your hair

War proposes a date every other argument

And I would not lose this moment

To the harpies of politics

I will hold this in memory

Throughout all the nights you will not be by my side

Sunset bled
He called her
No laughter in her teeth

Winter’s edge sharpens my breath
bow to the bite
before wind takes coat
til I’m twirling
in a hymn of storms
spun crimson and white

What shaded veil blinds me to thee
but simple vanity
in all my wrath I cannot see
a harmonized universe

for I would wish it lockstep with mine
and lose all the variety
and cover it with clover
yet miss the little bee

for all the sense I would make
some ridiculous thought would stray
and i would confuse harmony
with what I feel today

as opposed to environs
I would have one gauge
is it or is it not a nice day

and miss the vale in favor of mountains
and miss the male in favor of the female
for my vision is marred by shadows of self
and so I read

to hear the stamps and fits of other wiser voices

My cat sounds like the first rumble of popping corn

as she settles into me for the night

I push her caramel vanilla fur into the bits of tabby

Until she’s full of joy- leaps off my shoulder and into her favorite worn scarf tucked in a box

Under the bed

I’m not offended, not really

she walked over
hugged him then
put her hands on his shoulders
don’t
you
ever
do
that
again
her vision over his headline
seeing a night bathed in chaos
seeing a future and a past bleeding into one another

i did it once before, he said looking around at the gathered shoes of friends

don’t ever.
again.
she walked past him
as instructed
and took the place of a right wing
if he were an angel

to hold back the edge
to hold up the light
dart between the darkest nights
and come out alright
to live a life
taste the bitter with the glad
to sharpen my senses more to the good
to seek the center
to be drowned in the light

To alleys to backseats to cardboard boxes
to sleep to dine to wrestle with demons

to find a way home
to make a home

to die
and live
and love
and begin

again each day