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I dreamed I was more than moored, but less than Lake. That the shaking of these limbs (this breeze) was about more than trees (and less than song.) I dreamed I belonged to the sea, and that she gave me … Continue reading
… in mo(u)rning, we sing our sacred dawn-songs, allow the bell to toll for all we’ve lost. We’ve tossed and turned all night, held the world tight in trembling hands and too-full clouds with false linings. We’re pining for some … Continue reading
.. You say to talk about her in a new way and I must tell you I am exhausted. She exhausts me. My nouns. My verbs. My inky veins. I have quilled her a thou -sand poems in paper sky, … Continue reading
Casperson Beach, January 2018 .. the sky’s on fire and so’s her soul, so much foam and salt. she’ll leave a piece of her self here, take some peace home with her. be. still. ………..know.
Please remember me when the sun goes down when the moon is round remember me. – The Reverend Horton Heat . Remember her in moon -light, words spilled to sea. In the slight slant of sky that says rain … Continue reading
(an aubade tanka) .. one last stolen kiss. watch that fading sky; oh, see? silver filament looped to invisible strings, moon rewires herself to sea. .. prompted by poetic asides.