autumn's end . . .
a vulture turns over
the pieces

 

urban garden . . .
among skeletal trees
a vulture waits

 

summer grasses . . .
a vulture circles over
soldier's dreams

 

stricken ill
a vulture scavenges
extant dreams

 

dawn parade . . .
a vulture flies itself
at half-mast

 

moon halo —
the vulture eyes
a ring finger

 

Irish stew —
finnegan's wake
of vultures

 

branching out —
vultures in committee
form a quorum

 

a vulture
sniffs out the state
of Denmark

 

seventh day . . .
vultures feed on the
afterbirth

 

pas de deux . . .
a vulture outsmarts
the crow

 

darkening sky . . .
vultures keep watch over
a vale of tears

 

empty sky . . .
a vulture returns
to fuck all

 

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night shelter . . .
a Samaritan's
extra mile


 

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an ode nightingale
pours forth its ecstatic heart . . .
do I wake or sleep?


 

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mirror lake . . .
a mallard upends
within itself


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cold silence!
it twists into the night
like a knife


 

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twilight dusk —
a bell bird trembles
on its trill


 

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autumn's end . . .
a vulture turns over
the pieces


 

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urban garden . . .
among skeletal trees
a vulture waits


 

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summer grasses . . .
a vulture circles over
soldier's dreams


 

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stricken ill
a vulture scavenges
extant dreams


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dawn parade . . .
a vulture flies itself
at half-mast


 

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moon halo —
the vulture eyes
a ring finger


 

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Irish stew —
finnegan's wake
of vultures


 

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branching out —
vultures in committee
form a quorum


 

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a vulture
sniffs out the state
of Denmark


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seventh day . . .
vultures feed on the
afterbirth


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pas de deux . . .
a vulture outsmarts
the crow


 

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darkening sky . . .
vultures keep watch over
a vale of tears


 

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empty sky . . .
a vulture returns
to fuck all


 

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how fine!
the strain of clinging
to dreams


 

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just out of reach
the delirium of
the ordinary


 

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misty rain —
a branch dripfeeds
my ears


 

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autumn coda . . .
a reverie of paw prints
across her briefs


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lengthening shadows . . .
an undertaker moves
under a plantain


 

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the wet dreams
that fall from wind-torn leaves —
a young night


 

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greyscale dawn . . .
the yesterday forgotten
again today


 

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blowing itself over the sea,
there's no place for winter wind
to go back


 

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prism break . . .
red white and blue leaks
through the cracks


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funeral vigil . . .
eternity yawns between
each 'Hail Mary'


 

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a parson bird sings
in both the present
and the past . . .


 

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in silence
in the gap between breaths
. . . a fantail


 

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across the valley
drift ancestral voices;
with each rise and fall
of her still sleeping breast
moonlight enters my breath


 

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how absurd!
a pukeko alone
voices it


 

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winter rain!
is this the rhythm
of a death poem?


 

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all day rain . . .
darkness now soaks me
to the skin


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livid sky . . .
a river narrows
inwards


 

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bitter wind . . .
the suburban totems
leafless at last


 

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stormy night . . .
rain sounds flay me
bit by bit


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on the living
and on the newly dead —
wintry rain


 

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polar storm . . .
a taste of darkness
without end


 

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the wind darkens
within my listening —
longest night


 

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icy veins . . .
the wind parts a way
to the deep north


 

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winter storm —
the sound of one colour
blowing still


 

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late spring . . .
a bull snuffs out
the flowers


 

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breathless dawn —
a mosaic of leaves
lighten up


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dawn breaks out
in tongues of fire . . .
frosted earth


 

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after dusk
in a muskrat's wake
primal slime


 

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swaying reed —
the flutemaker reads
a closed book


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listen!
the sound of grapes
being crushed


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all at sea
a lone pigeon maps
the way home


 

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