September 2016

An Ancestral Silence
deep winter
without the weave of words
within shelter
still birds
offspring of silence
after words
the presence
of ancient hand prints
deepen their absence
mere hints
of mammoths and bears
left long since
the words that are the heirs
of the lives once theirs
darkening wind –
my mind comes to stop
at nothing
September wind –
a terror unheard of
since unspoken
the morning murmurs
"m’illumino d’immenso" –
September light
in the flutter 
of her
I score
I know not what 
with words
all around
the impression of self
where light falls
a -
dna or morse
to a t
light of spring –
this longing to become
a buttercup
spring tide
words somersault
in the wind
a grain of salt
Lot's wife looks back
to the twin cities
lost for words
fallen rimu dragged
through the mill
as it is called
out of step

all about spring release

setting sun
my vowels lengthen
with my words
coffin thuds –
the sound of forgetting
dead calm
before the beginning
and after . . .
night of nights
a smoldering wick
voices the prayer
unbidden bird
the name for it 
births itself
in the beginning
a lack of words
for nothing
as you read
an old silence becomes
audible once more
filling in the gaps
left after words
theory of everything
the grand design
even here
a cheshire cat
of words
this endless hunt for meanings,
finally a kind of curious greed
and still
leaden words sink me 
ever deeper
breath-wide moments
nothing but

this prosthesis
word by word

leaves break down a death sentence
wind whorls fingerprint man-dust


when you were
when meaning was worded
with relics
a grief ago almost borne

in winter wind
all that’s left of me
escapes me

what the pine
had to teach

there and there
so near still
a mayfly’s was