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… 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.
.. to whom it need (evade) ………….concern, thanks for dropping by, but she’s busy (useless, really) , fumbling coffee on a coast -er, and wearing a sea foam bracelet …………..and a desk of sand. .. MizQ gave us a word … Continue reading