walls painted honey-
shadow’s calligraphy signs
the art of morning
3 weeks, 2 days
That there was a form of near death
growing in her beautiful breast
did not take away from
days tinged with light
That an early frost would frighten… 69 more words
the anthem of stars-
in the darkness of the Forth
morse code, singing ships
It was on a bridge between
the millpond of autumn
and winters tide
that we met.
Fall soft you spoke
the scent of woodsmoke
with but one real regret, 105 more words
Q if made of paper
what is it that I would be?
A I’d still be a tree
It is nighttime and my garden is the beauty.
The creaking fences are Blake’s beast
and the stars are rain on his malformed shoulders.
It is night indeed as the flowers are unbending, 34 more words
light spills from shared sheets
still warm from the breath of sleep
the heat of dreaming