Childhood futureReaping the rich harvest of last month's departure to the narrow road to the deep north of my memories, I continue my journey through August into the deeper interior that is always with me.

This image is what I looked out to every day of my childhood.  It is an accurate portrayal of the hazy future that always tugged at me.





just like that
a post-war ploughshare
in the flesh
then too
forever now
out of mind
divining reality
a bayleaf falls
bleak stillness
a wave beaches
waning moon –
this failure to let go
of language
spring creepers –
once again death swept
under the carpet

only a hush this pervasive

divine silence –
cross-hair of words strained
between stars
darkness breasting 
unseasonal words –
earth becomes seized by
its climacteric
the long silence –
tell-tale signs hand-palm
my meninges
snatched from the beak
of a hummingbird
with the wind
images of old friends
birds and clouds
when I name it
what is it you see?
your absence
bleeding out
from my own shadow
my anima
last embers –
light swaying between
me and not-me
winter ends –
I am slowly weathered
into whiteness
cold war –
will and want shadowed
on the walls
an apple
drawn and quartered
in my genes
 preamble to a eulogy
to a eulogy
winter rain
a loss
of breath
when words 
of breath
i am
not i
my hymn
of praise