#483. tears to come

October 27, 2011

tears to come set sail
when october cries with her wind in the rigging
the stillness of time becomes apparent
leaves become the signal
flags letting storms 
of snow to come
know why it is
that we wait 
together 
alone

#469. ten

April 15, 2011

kissing
starry light
bright trance
retinal delighting
alighting hypothalamus
and relighting time to live
in the clouds backed by the moon
with your hair wild in the sharp wind 

Still the cherry tree in the spring is so beautiful with its tiny pale pink not quite white petals, undersized compared to the maples and oaks who share the front yard and who steal all its light as spring fades forwards towards summer the blossoms fall silently to cover the bare spot in the lawn caused by the cherry tree blocking the light of the pittsburgh sun.

Still the cherry tree in the late spring with its blossoms falling silently to cover the bare spot in its shade and as spring fades forwards towards summer the blossoms fall silently to cover the bare spot in the lawn caused by the cherry tree blocking the light of the pittsburgh sun.

Still the cherry tree gives three small boys cooling cover for their summer games of matchbox cars and teasing the girls with muddy feet and the front lawn is surrounded by a thick and evil bed of green ivy thriving on the skins and bones of the gazillion balls we lost while playing with brothers and friends.

Still the cherry tree in the fall lifts upright branches guarding the sons from the chilling father wind and the front lawn is surrounded by a thick and evil bed of green ivy thriving on the skins and bones of the gazillion balls we lost while playing with brothers and friends.

Still the cherry tree keeps watch on me as the winter snow falls to cover the bare spot in its cold shade and I freeze to avoid the dark wrath of the eyes of the chilling father wind that waits within my house.

Still the cherry tree keeps watch on me as the snow falls to cover the bare spot in its cold shade as I freeze to avoid the dark wrath that waits within my house still the cherry tree still the cherry tree keeps watch on me keeps watch on me keeps watch keeps watch.

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Still the cherry tree in the spring is so beautiful with its tiny pale pink not quite white petals, undersized compared to the maples and oaks who share the front yard and who steal all its light as spring fades forwards towards summer the blossoms fall silently to cover the bare spot in the lawn caused by the cherry tree blocking the light of the Pittsburgh sun.

Still the cherry tree in the late spring with its blossoms falling silently to cover the bare spot in its shade and as spring fades forwards towards summer the blossoms fall silently to cover the bare spot in the lawn caused by the cherry tree blocking the Pittsburgh sun.

Still the cherry tree gives three small boys cooling cover for their summer games of matchbox cars and teasing the girls with muddy feet and the front lawn is surrounded by a thick and evil bed of green ivy thriving on the skins and bones of the gazillion balls we lost while playing with brothers and friends.

Still the cherry tree in the fall lifts upright branches guarding the sons from the chilling father wind and the front lawn is surrounded by a thick and evil bed of green ivy thriving on the skins and bones of the gazillion balls we lost while playing with brothers and friends.

#456. belief?

January 21, 2011

time is caught
in my head
is caught in time
the heart too
is pulled strung
to then now
from wild soon

fire a kiln burn beautiful
air scented by wood and water
earth blooms constantly returns all home

#448. winter solstice prep

December 19, 2010

in sensation
smoke curls
in cold whirl
oak door slam
ice spear drops
orange flames
bursts redsheen
friends all on a couch
blankets porcelain tea cups
dogs curled asleep on the floor 

#442. mom

December 1, 2010

all those years
the fall wind through an open window
the white hood
your closed eyes silent staring at mine
which are yours

#431. it’s elementary

November 13, 2010

i am learning 
great days
seawood
smoky
air
pigments thick on my fingers
ancient childs brushes alive
are
stroking
grey canvas
all opening up

#400. two sides of winter

October 4, 2010

the first tree has turned
the city goes autumn
catches the wind
the rain sweeps
the plaza
leaves
swirl
my eyes
follow one high
the bridge flying
in the mist anchors
the future spring beyond

tell me wind
do you dry the tears
shed thru injustice

answer me fire
does flame burn hope
locked in concrete

inform me water
does your song lift spirit
bound by steel

convince me earth
is dust the reward for life
lived in chains

speak to me wood
will creation not welcome
life home

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