231 - 240

your eyes are ancient

warm stones well worn by waters

impossibly gray

i think of my heart

empty. but what i see are

hollow lungs, breath full.

soft stone seattle

you've grown green moss on me like

lichen on a tree

driftwood driftwood!

you're back from the sea!

paid for salt with your sap you're

as dry as can be.

you walk like a cat

soft padded swagger, straying,

a feline beeline.

blood red ink

i don't remember hurting

writing, yes

how you phosphoresce

in natural light, to your

touch, a testament

in rescue

roots severed by spades

in effort

i am not waiting

held in place by sky and earth

dust i will become

'i'm old,' you profess

scrolled tongue and papyrus breath

rough edges curled lips

221 – 230

not yet manifest

i've been thinking of you in

wild flowers, sweet tea

we stare into space

city bus commuter cadets

needling through time

urban turbulence

to shuttle me home, so slow

most low flying jet

your absence is smoke

gray taffy pulled from fire from

embers still burning

the break in the floor

shows old paint the color of

old bones split, pale. dust.

in pursuit of more

or just the quarry itself

i'm deeply exposed

i have climbed this face

and for what then? give me lip

an edge to leap from

perfect trees, tall, call

i wanna run through your legs

a cat through a crowd

curled up cats napping

a quilt of soft grasses

hills warm to the touch

i am alone as

i chose to be, always. now,

a wolf in a pack.

211 - 220

slept on thoughts planted

like stacked mattresses on peas

sewn restless, soon reaped

spat lies from lips

subtle as missing teeth

a gap. stop.

under warm gray skies

my dad and I walk the beach

tiptoe over rocks

am i green to think

what is will not die like leaves

off trees in winter

born in the heartbeat

between soar up and plummet

waits flight's relative

soft dawned ophelia

to be drawn into words not

to be drowned by ink

silt sand burial

retrieval of an era

weathered to feathers

after you ate, left

i broke the plate washing it

i got cut, before.

little bear bumble

soft tumble thru bramble sticks

fall, sting bees, the hive

we dine by the tracks,

watch the weight of freight talk the

table into dance

201 - 210

crescent moon

not a missed mark, arc

through study of slivers we

reach understanding

neutral translator

hardly. you soften her words

like milk on broke bread

winter skeletons

trees white knuckled branches

snow lace parasols

old man, you disappoint

but friend,' my heart sinks,

'what good's a tugboat on a

ship filled with water?'

by gone i mean done

like a stone's polish finish

end of an era

(trapped) your hair ensnares

soft filaments, i give in

a spider's envy

early that winter

that morning, goose bumps took flight

on your hand's light breeze

surfacing from depths

your hip bone crests the surface

the exhale of whale

stray gray hair,

loose white wire. old house with an

unfinished attic.

straight from the cloud gate

gallops of rain turned gallons

troughs emptied of thirst

191 - 200

window pane rattle
i can hear you breath, in out,
too tired for words

i follow the seams
in your dress, threads unwind from
the tight spool of you

spell it out for me
bone white sentences
sweaty prints on the chalk board
oh, i get it now

i mistake your veins
for rivers, marrow old growth
baptized, i splinter

rain runs down streets in
seams, in concrete, compassion
towards patter patterned

that tree dropping green
perhaps this is it's first fall
go says it's leaves, still

herds of yellow leaves
running the red light and back
squirrelly swirl dancing

need i permission
to buy/eat a persimmon
concrete store floor shines

single footed crow
hop scotch king on a concrete
sidewalk. there's no chalk.

muscles cling to bones
bark on bare limbs chattering
fuck it's so cold out

181 - 190

i didn't dive head

first into the wave only

to drown on the shore

i'm stepping on glass

that's been broken, given up

form and clear function

wings closed

you'd think that after

enough monsoons, butterflies

would learn to stay still

wings opened

and after enough

monsoons, the butterfly learned

to stay very still

what it takes to fly,

cocoon shed, patience we wed

watch painted wings dry

i saw a leaf fall

dry flame from the treetop

daytime meteor

a blanket pulled

stitches of rain thread through trees

a bolt of lightning

small citrus peeled

white lattice lace held

together, slices

branches bare, birds

smiling up at the rain

wet crows feet

glove and coat divorce

leaving thin wrists exposed, cold

soft blank of skin

161 - 180

on beets, red

concentric beauty

like the hallow in my veins

spectacular gore

untitled #15

alternately, I'm

the panting dog laying down,

the tired arm, slack

#16

if not you or i

then it is fair to say both

we, us, now sep'rate

#17

cease your sighs

the singer at the muted mic

breaths for both of us

untitled #18

face friendly words, stumbled,,

echo thru the canyon of

my, we have grown apart

wait a second

hey, that's my shirt!

scanning for evidence. . .

shelf of milk crates, thief!

a course on coarse

dried on a rock

a salt awake wake

ocean waves goodbye

faith

if the mic wasn't

already plugged in, you would

electrify it.

untitled #19

the air you breath, i,

i want it. thin breath thru bones

harmonize the breeze

untitled #20

a cradle of grapes

on the table. the cupboard,

a coffin of raisins.

under under under

beneath sediment

weight of time, pressured of sand,

crystals conspire form

moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake

scarab black fur coat

always bent uphill, pushing

broke dung shopping cart

untitled #21

first thread, no needle.

then needle, no thread. falling

apart it would seam

untitled #22

pebble underfoot

fells me like an avalanche

hard (packed snow) pavement

fancy salt

crystalline hide out

surrenders to waves. unlocks

oceans legacy

thank you for feeding me

my stomach's a glow

you dear, put the epic in

epicurean.

untitled #23

pear in my kitchen

is it true you miss your tree?

a lone bird told me

breakfast

slime jam on toast

like a snail traversing bark

bite through crisp crust shell

this is about coffee tho i don't partake

hiding under grounds

terminal velocity

private jet to go

drum

hot sultry evening

chatter hot gossip over

air conditioned hum