Year: 
2017

from the shore
where I can see it all
as it floats away
 
to some other land
where the sun continues to shine
for centuries
 
and treetops
sway in the wind
filling the grass
with wandering pollen
 
          *
 
worn out
like a flag flown
for many years
 
          *
 
alone here
where your lips once
had left a mark
 
          *
 
once
I looked up
at the stones
and there opened a path
 
into the night
lit by torchlight
where I wandered into
your somnolent embrace
 
          *
 
somewhere down the river
you left a patch of leaves
and made it into a bed
where we stayed for days
in slumber unable to wake
as satyrs in a dream
 
          *
 
in the forest
there was a cry—
you called out for me
somewhere between
the owl’s coo
and the wolf’s lament
 
          *
 
there was a song she sang
that day when she began to bloom
and opened all the meadows
in a dance to the moon
 
          *
 
you touched my neck
it burned and I knew you were there
somewhere in the night
watching me, and watching me still
 
          *
 
in dawn
the clouds came
welcome as the red dust
you left on my doorstep
 
          *
 
I could not cry—
buried beneath the sand
at the bottom of the river
 
          *
 
it was only mercy
in the words of a song
that was left inside
the door of my box
 
          *
 
some sweet smell
lingers in the air
between the willows
pulling me in
from the path I follow
 
          *
 
everyone was here
when the earth grew up
spontaneously, without a blemish
and all the children of Noah
returned home
 
          *
 
it is dusk
as the women wander off
aboard the ship of fools
 
          *
 
though it were day
I could fall asleep
and all the movement would cease
in the sea dawn waves
that undulate to the final breath
 
          *
 
it was a new face
formed in the pines
that line the banks
and whistle home
the folk melodies
that form the path
along this shore
 
          *
 
the bay washed
all the debris ashore
wind and chimes
the claims on time
we spent together
 
postcards from the deep
when the world was black
and flowed from some
source spring, unknown
 
          *
 
bent over
head buried blind
within the earth
 
where flames drive me deep
into the song of sleep
and the narrow road
that carries me home
 

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