Snide circle of life,
something about the conservation of all energy
that enervates the grand delusion
how you watch over me when I sleep
to catch a softness that fades as I wake
Your puzzled palms will unclose their prayer.
You will tilt your head at it
as if a weightless dawn
had first illuminated the hue
of your long-closed eyelids,
And war is fire,
forcing people into the same boundary,
each becomes an ant,
Please slow down, let me catch up.
Read More
Something in the gaze of ten thousand blackbirds
lays the mighty forest bare,
Still, the farmers keep harvesting grain.
Still, I listen to talk radio in silence.
Still, the field.
Still, the mountain.
Still, my heart clenches
for some long-ago now.