Address
Morning light after flowing
Through crystal and stone
Pools in the heart’s chambers.
In it float, memories, shadows, Dust motes, irises, mirrors. Universes arrive and float away.
Questions remain for Lips to free answers, hands to free garlands. But I have been looking for the flower seller herself.
They report her different passages at different times. They report different names. But what bland taste does news have second hand!
Which alley should I then take brother? At which window should I command my eyes, To keep vigils? So I will wait here.
Give her this address: The light pool in the chambered heart, Between presences and absences.
after Rumi
... link
Fall
It is fall again,
And old wounds are laid bare.
The cold epidermis flaps against
Bones, a rag toy leaking wool.
Crisp leaves bury the sundials And nights lengthen across the meridians. I wake before light again, Clutching to my bony chest, the sum Of things, between us, left unsaid and undone.
My Poems
... link