Winter

All night the ravens releasing a black crying. They seem to hold worlds we can never touch. Something akin to wisdom. Not perfection. That doesn’t have any life in it.   It’s the woods where the breathing moves where Night well, you know.   At some point you...

Sestina of a Dancer

for Susan   painful mirror your body is my departure i watch you dance as light pours into a glass   flawless as glass terrible mirror woman of light this body dances our departure   that even now departs as brightness from the glass a shadow dance...

The Heart

Impossible organ, beating and pumping our blood river to some unknown sea.   It doesn’t take much, a small glitch in the inevitable rhythm, weatherbreak, wind-howl and we are set adrift.   We long for order, but the heart with its incessant thump-thump  ...