1 New Poem

Stillness Moving

Moon breath crept across
lawns in early space;
singing places stop-started
their warbling shake,
dove through a
wounded step lifetime.

Under far western skies,
you swept me up in finery,
promised the world not as
printed page tone, but in
full-flowering colour; belief
in nothing so much as together.

Placebo for the arsenic gold:
words shifting more fleeting,
stretched thin to bone, cold
in light of crooked day,
with boxes and book carriages
to fill space.

1 New Poem

 Not Being Here

On a Thursday, I was lost in
bar chord bash, rushing through
clock spit with you;

I had a lost head them, a
pendulum bolt from fast to
slow, running down hours.

In the ticking, I heard causes
once sacred, hearts aflame
I could not hope to cross

Again through this quilt stitched
of broken glass, memorial wheels,
in the same fashion as before

When worse my speech, but
better the laughter.