tidal mud—
the sound of loss
tugs at me
summer clouds
trailing off somewhere
with my voice
dense with stars
night grows expansive
behind my eyes 
day moon— 
your disabled normalcy,
my son
new year heat
the very air slows
to my pace
this consciousness . . .
what does it feel like
as it ends?
dusky sky
wrenching the silence 
from silence
                         s
                         u
                        m
trailing off  somewhere with my voice
                         e
                         r
 
                        c
                        l
                       o
                       u
                       d
                       s
 
                        e
                        p
       one who lies in here
                        t
                       a
                       p
                       h
 
                y
be done on earth 
                u
                r
 
                    w
     just as it is in heaven
                     l
                     l
 
                     l
                    e
                    t
 
                     i
                     t
 
 
 
lingering dusk— 
daylight withdraws its last
semblance of order
night of stars— 
the fullness within me
flickers unseen
leaving light— 
the shimmer on the brink
of seeing
summer bounty . . .
city malls birthing
usurers
danger zone
my shadow skirts
the obvious
wormholed night . . .
I sleep past the ends
of my dreams
tadpole galaxy— 
I eavesdrop on the drama
played out before us
us and them
taking the unknown
personally
star risen night— 
the depth of longing
still in me
ripe onion— 
the outer roundness
of her belly
datastore . . .
virtual shadows
of my self
moving water . . .
my shadow laps at
the edges
cloudless day . . .
so much harder to see
what lies hidden
burnt offering— 
the move from holocaust
to Holocaust
cicada,
what secret are you
drenching me in?
string theory— 
another mosquito
sounds me out
spirit wind— 
mosquitoes zero
in on me
paper wasps . . .
facial recognition
sets us apart
year of light . . .
our eyes strain away from
this scorching earth
distant gong— 
the toll life is taking
out of me