Our circles overlap

Hands brushing as we pass

And when gravity pins us down

We meet and laugh

About days past

I strand-brush away as my family scrolls past strolls past me i could descend into an abyss and be sitting in one place I worry- wart!- where? like that everyday. Every so often a secret an angel meets my gaze then turns turns turns away. In heaven’s refining fires is hell why stay? People change every day.

Sun swallows shadow

Avoids fullest parts

And some hollowest too.

Shadow-swallowing sun

Is also shadow-giving sun

Sun-shadowing

Exists simply because things do.

The woe of the gardener is the reward of the rabbit and caterpillar

I danced with the poet

And he skinned me of my song

Time to stretch scars

To accept the last kicks of soul

Time to accept life outside of the chrysalis

Brazen seas keep on rolling, rolling strong

In his grasp, I am flung along

What song would calm winds

What eye would find me

As the brazen seas keep rolling, rolling strong

A master I need of the wind and the rain

A god in his right and a God in name

To pluck me from this rolling gray which rolls on and on and on

I am lost from the light

In the distance I see it fading

Will I last one more night

I roll on and on and on

Through the grey

A pain of sunshine

I draw thin blankets over my shivering

See the spots of truth

I will make it through another morning

Where once I wore out the fence in sitting, I find myself two strides into your yard

What kept me there rocking I cannot remember

But a call of my name and I stumble into your field. What loss has pulled me from my gray walk -could fuel the scream coming from your house

A kitten’s heartbeat fading

We hold a funeral by the fence

By that well worn fence

First thing in the morning

Annoyed at remembering you

I tease the dog into play

In his excitement he nips

Reminded of you twice

In one day

From the birthing shores to the fallen drones, all is silence

As we push on through the swollen morn, all is silence

We awake new people each day

But haunt our lives away with tales of error and woe

When we can make our own stories now, all is silence