this –
our body
bled

back to this
greenness bleeding
down each leaf

name be damned
the russet of leaves
in the wind

all at once
the rain
until now
forgotten

by candle-light
words fall further than
               where we end

without the moon
I take a leaf out of
Basho's book

leafless now
a transplant seeks out
its roots

autumn leaves
           each day adazzle
     in doubt

birth of stars –
the sky means nothing
in seeming blue

dark autumn –
decay deepens its hold
over me

in leaf tones
the warmth of company
all but gone

hippo poto
monstro sesquippedalio
phobia

failing light –
mine is the darkness
that shadows me

after a shit
how did my forebears
come clean?

night thunder . . .
ancestral bodies
warm me still

lightning:
words remain
unborn

in time
flashes of night
unmooned

without light alone lingers

deep night:
the heartbeat also
is mine

nothing
overwhelmed with
more of it

in autumn rain
an ancestral threnody
of belonging

autumn night
I read myself deeper
into Buson

night pain . . .
windows mist over
my soul

moonlit dew
less than ever
a breath

deadened
    low water laps
    old terrors

nothing
en-worded
in the flesh

darkness clings moving into it