the winter roost

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the crows come again, perch within the remnants of summer - turned to rust and rue; they've come again with their own narrative, their inscrutable truths - strike their own lines against November's sky, while we try blindly (futile) to navigate stolen darknesses; fixed, and non-migratory - roosting in huddled groups for the long and … Continue reading the winter roost

the waiting

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the waiting creeps up from feet, passes hips, submerges wrists in slippery uncertainty naturally, the ear strains to catch the subtle shift of air that marks departure no one ever sings through the smoke of staying - love and smoke both only ever go sometimes you get so caught up in the leaving, all kisses … Continue reading the waiting

what has been lost

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love remaining half-asked, with an exile's hunger, what have you lost? smoke never stops moving, alters nothing, and leaves irretrievably when exactly does time distill us down to fire? down to accumulated passion? at what point have we traded the marked directions of known constellations for the possible light of far, unseen stars? I carry … Continue reading what has been lost

the departed

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your departure has the weight of ash no longer carrying your fate, I return to my old shape days hold their same complexities but night has become startlingly simple - rucked sheets, wooden bed-frame - there's no need to believe in anything else how is it that you ever fit inside these walls? inside this … Continue reading the departed

a poet’s levy

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certain books stay hidden - those in which loss and love exist without conclusion and at times I may crack them - draw new maps to old places, new creatures of known constellations, and let the moon out into the room once more, to rest on shoulders that can bear the additional gravity a tolerable … Continue reading a poet’s levy

what the day contains

brown drifts of coffee grounds, and the tappings of the black-capped chickadee finding rhythm with the tick-ticking of spring rain on new-green locust leaves the passing hours mold the morning into the firmer lines of day, tracing the flights of fugitive birds - red hawk, wren, house finch, crow, ubiquitous dust-winged sparrow shadows lazily skate … Continue reading what the day contains