crescent moon —
she encircles the darkness
only she can see
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star-crammed sky —
all the words that come
to nothing
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tundra —
the continuing thaw
of a single word
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the vastness!
all that is concealed
by light
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first light . . .
let what is
be done
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first cause
before we had
the words
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after dusk
silence expands the space
still left
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clear water
to free simplicity
of the words
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my hours
intoned by tuis
and moreporks
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a fantail
among the shadows
my every move
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star fire
arcing a self-made
abyss
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finger tied
to the end of the world
a skein unwinds
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beyond me
the echo of a song
once me
 
 
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river fog —
a chiaroscuro of self
word by word
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here it is
standing in for the moon
word for word
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sea shimmer
after the moonlight:
a dearth of words
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insomnia
yesterday yawns
behind me
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with this kiss
Danaë takes shape within
her chrysalis
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dissenting
into the vernacular
the weight of words
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earth mother:
the you I once knew
now my dream

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at sunset
a sea anemone
sucks in her blush

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from my pen
an hallucination
of loose ends

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so few words —
the dewfall most acute
in its vanishing

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twilit beach
in the undertow
of silence

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hear it!
the Lord's Prayer read
from a seashell

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organo-intellectual compost bins

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this and that consensual haikucide

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nature just being its ultimate ontology

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ashen wind —
all the mis-spent words
in my tongue

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the wind
tearing up the eyes
mine beheld

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this book
yielding the breath
of beyond

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with these words
fingertipping
the void

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leafless tree
how lifeless the dance
this winter

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night storm —
nameless trees flash
up the valley

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a chill solace of endless stars

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eyes closed so prolong the night

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within it
the page of tundra
yellows too

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winter beach —
an albatross asks
'who moved?'

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winter beach —
the welcoming walls
of an open grave

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winter beach —
the incoming tide
of horizons

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hermit crab —
the stream of words sidesteps
the obvious

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with clenched teeth
sea-spray lashes apart
the veneer

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the loss
of my words
of loss

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slow flow sap —
the stillbirth of words
dragging clouds

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winter sky
maybe a bird dies
or doesn't

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wood smoke
my loneliness lingers
near the flame

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lost and found
candlelight flickers
over her
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between here
and the fence post
static whispers
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in this world
neither a foxhole
nor a nest
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on the wing
a twitter a halfinch
from my finger
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