crescent moon —
she encircles the darkness
only she can see
star-crammed sky —
all the words that come
to nothing
tundra —
the continuing thaw
of a single word
the vastness!
all that is concealed
by light
first light . . .
let what is
be done
first cause
before we had
the words
after dusk
silence expands the space
still left
clear water
to free simplicity
of the words
my hours
intoned by tuis
and moreporks
a fantail
among the shadows
my every move
star fire
arcing a self-made
finger tied
to the end of the world
a skein unwinds
beyond me
the echo of a song
once me
river fog —
a chiaroscuro of self
word by word
here it is
standing in for the moon
word for word
sea shimmer
after the moonlight:
a dearth of words
yesterday yawns
behind me
with this kiss
Danaë takes shape within
her chrysalis
into the vernacular
the weight of words