autumn wind —
a butterfly grows
more detached


grinding axes
a sharp tongue rubs me up
the wrong way


 

coolness!
the dark underbelly
of a rainbow


 

gone!
love-lies-bleeding
in the mist


 

autumn rain —
as the chatter ceases,
only her breath


cloud-robed moon . . .
it stalks me along
this path


 

after dusk
purple light rises
from the stream


 

a cool night —
my daughter's moon flutters
on the fridge


 

a mute child
finds it for me—
the way back


 

morepork!
across the night
we are one


 

twilight bird!
through the bush a wind
shaping sound


morning mass —
dewfall stirs through
the wine


 

distant voices . . .
the apparition of night
behind the door


 

the night agape
with a poem's caesura . . .
light before dawn


stormy night —
the distance between
then and now


 

insomnia!
night conjugates 'to be'
through the tenses


not so green,
a falling leaf spirals
through its is-ness


being now the am which will have been


 

wordless night —
rain's sound enters
the pool's depths


 

autumn dusk —
shadows become all
just like that