Place

Outwards shines

the green endings

of summer in

its yellow casement

wrapped.

Rolling

is the sound we take

for oceans, for

leaves’ endless rolling

toward the heaven

of earth.

On this place

I lived and

every living thought

beckoned in a

singsong apparition

called reality.

Great blue washing out

rare showing up at the computer tonight,

etching hazy up-and-down lines-

i've been looking for work,

the job of going there, the

task of staying put--

old woman comes out into

the center of the village,

wagon wheels creak to turning life,

the smoke of burning peat is heavy

adds another cold txtured layer

to the feeling, already damp,

the heavy naked wool rubs against

yr skin.  the sun lowers

in the trees, all autumn,

all alone and in the dying light. 

Knot of embrace

in our little world

the rain abates.

yesterday's walk which was so difficult

presents no trouble today.

im dry and warm

and food is on the table.

Time changes the shapes

in our hands into

very different things.

flight of the paper crane

and yawning sunrise.

Night over day over night

under day. Little sunshine

peeks its head above the covers,

a long, long nighttime of tales

and an infinite day of love,

bundled together. 

Lotus

The mountains

that keep you

were hidden-

entangled in

the skies, in the earth,

in warm sways of currents

atop foaming

wave crests and clouds;

in gummy envelopes

of moss that

merged into the mountains’

deepest pores and

sought the water stored

at the bottom of

their long arms.

The evening always

seemed a mystery,

its edges faded to

purple tatters

after the sun sank.

Then the summer seas

roiled.  And

all the storms,

reflected on

the brightness

of the ocean’s face,

coalesced into a

fantastic night-

breeze, a midnight hurricane

that dreamed up all the islands;

that dreamed of volcanic eruptions

in the landscape among the stars.

From the pacing of the

islands’ graceful rounds

around the mountains

the morning streaked the

sky with yellow and orange-

while the far-off sea

waved in time to their pulse.

river visual

the embassy

of apple and star

sends an envoy to

the tides of summer.

Old roots clench

instinctively; stars

start their run to

the ocean's edge,

to plains made of

darkness and dirt.

Crops of colors continues

one two in

harmony reds and

blues.

  sweeping the patio

of fallen leaves

into a pile by the door

that is

autumn.

The hammer sings

out loud

the sound

  is growing to where

each note embraces

the metal it hammers,

hugs it, takes it home

in its hands, our hands,

a leaf slips into the air

to float away forever. 

Blood Sea

inside a

scooped out heart

a flower grows

in a digital rhythm

humming along

break neck breakbeats

of the soul

and on and on,

along the banks of rivers.

I gaze into the murkiness

of the water

at my feet and see

a gorgeous nothing

drifting among the darkness,

the nothing of greys

and blacks layered

along the stratum of silver

moonlight.  another flower

flowers here, shimmers

in the murky goldenness.