November 2017

wide-eyed world woven with webbing

light to read the directions of mist by

a sign where the circle ends

dry creek bed
face to face with
my extinction

from nowhere
a wave overshadows
the last rock-pool

merciful wind —
bruised reeds are unbroken
and flax flower

core alone on the tundra

all at once
some pumice bobs up
from the past

in the east
ranges croak up
cumuli

rainbow warrior —
a zodiac boat prowls
through the stars

moon in mist —
a momentary glimpse
through my doubt