June 2017
snail trail
twisting a treatise
out of time
for a time
just the almosts
of Op. 127
final impenitence
a septuagenarian plans
to take the world with him
half moon light
a fading bird tweets
the coming of dusk
leaf seen through
a bloodline ends
at the wrist
bulbous bloom
a blonde bombshell bursts
my bubble
full bodied
a micromoon crests
dusky sounds
micromoon
with quiet answers
to dark questions
in-gasp stop —
a reed thins out
my prosody
stridor —
for the time being
I breathe tui
haiku moment . . .
look here I am
being in time
stillness —
i write up
a storm
midwinter dream
my writing hand
queries its age
3°C
I feel my way
into being
midwinter bluff
I skirt 'round the edges
of my eye pressure
desolate shore . . .
how are we to finish
our interior monologues?
an image of self
breasts
the milky way
a butterfly
alights on the whisper
of being
hush-breath night
for now the child's star
oblivious
grave undertaking
this consciousness
drained of words
the breath snatched
ever-now on the brink
of sea and sky
