Earth’s fair

Dense is the cloud

The light’s  thrown off

And cold the sea

And rough.

Thrown into tracks

The frontwinds steer

The phoebes North

To South.

Caught up in net

The warbler lies

Like death in stitch

And throttle.

The ships on glass

Pass through the yard

The word less strum

And battle.


Words on the wire play truth or dare.
Each takes a turn on tides of air
–all the twos
and the little ones
the frolicking fros
and the gamely comes–
wings whiffle
kissed and blushed
by setting sun.

Birth of Words

I witnessed a birth of words

as he read aloud

deep bloody wounds

gaping and closing

mouth like womb

lost in that moment

meaning was numb

drowned drum of hypnotic sound

heavy and urgent the words poured

shattered and proud

I yearned to cradle them in my own mouth.

a poem I wrote last year and decided to rewrite