day-crack
light in breath-stop
mist a-stir
each puffball
of expiration
word for word
night-smothered
a diver gasping for straws . . .
the chill air
tonight
light as it was
before it was
winter bleakness — 
a hunter-gatherer
prowls the aisles
end-tide 
mudflat detritus
scenting dreams
before
morning glory
limit of sky
Latinating
the Heimlich manoeuvre
to death
after night
the vacuity
of blue sky
sealed by blood
the torn hymnal folds
of sunset
cavelike
silence awaits
its words

deep-sea molluscs astride iceberg dreams

half moon light —
darkness still at odds
with itself
half moon blues —
parsing yin and yang
on a pond
burred song
a fricative trill
on the wing
a night wind
bloated with endless space
gnaws on each word
at the edge
of its stillness
a mantis
before it's
pinned to its name
a butterfly
moonless night
my childhood takes on
sepia tones
so boundless
the sound of my words
without me
moonless night;
the traces of dreams
between stars
night-drenched rain;
with sleep silence too
comes to rest
plopping sound;
a Japanese wind
ruffles the pond
ancient well —
it goes deeper still,
the first cut
wind-born . . .
a lone leaf at last
settles for less
all this
just to make real
nothing
here you are
just as I am imagining
recreating me
night-drenched rain;
each splash has become
this silence
winter soup;
the sun radiant
within me 
breath cloud
beyond the window
I am gone