it was seen
but now the last cloud 
drains away
solstice eve –
my breath torn between
coming and going
solstice moon –
the sun in balance
with its reflection
along this path
I too 
walk alone
river fog –
everywhere everything
matters up
hung out to dry
on a wine-dark sea
my emptiness
at ease
within itself –
melon taste
back as it was
before she left
highway sign
for Franz Wright
the mutter
             through the long hour
             of our death
for James Joyce
Bloomsday –
here how my words

shadows as if absently voiced

fallen leaf –
a chill wind revives
its presence
where we left them
the bedraggled bits of us
we once weathered
cold rain –
the weight of stars
within me