manna . . .
dewfallen light
by darkness

mirror mist
I almost believe
that I'm real

post-op ward
the trickle-down effect
of catheters

bent on freezing 
dewdrops on bended knees

seven billion
of us interpreting
silence

pressure-cooked
in his uterine tomb
my son sheds his skin

twumpeet
a world hangs on
evewy word

russet leaves downstream