Tag Archives: Braille

The Sun’s a Golden Lozenge 

And there’s a croak in my throat and so from now on I shall speak only in braille, the ache of words unspokenthe frail flurry of feathersthe echo of this bright sky.  I know the chance I’m takingbut it’s a choice I’m makingjust in case … Continue reading

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Clacking Back 

The morning speaks in cobblestone braille and snail trail goo. You might think my toes would have a go at it all, but my fingers are  what’s itchy. Twitchy with time and not enough time and rhyme that isn’t  jiving. Arrival’s easy; it’s staying that’s a trick. … Continue reading

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nothings

this poem is made of maple syrup sky and black forest on rye and the whispered why of granulated grace.  of empty space. of quiet lines that trail true north, wax forth and waneonly by a frosted slice of moon.  too soon, she’ll murmur something in … Continue reading

Posted in November Chapbook 2022 | Tagged , , , , , | 10 Comments

Architecture 

(a sonnet variation called a “duplex”)  :: I am a swirling alphabet storm. Nobody knows the order of this chaos.                         The order of chaos is unknown, even to me.                        The key is making sense of all the spaces in between.  The … Continue reading

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