September labored ripe with heavy moon,
died in the delivering of autumn.
The blue heron's left the river
...
Spring breeze shakes lose
ash seeds. I spiral into
their dance of disconnection.
...
Follow the ravens who gather
in the weeping willows.
Silent and starving
...
Spring breeze shakes lose
Ash seed. I spiral into
their dance of disconnection.
...
You say the gods packed up and left,
stripped the trees of zinc and spit
green into the waters
...
Equinox
September labored ripe with heavy moon,
died in the delivering of autumn.
The blue heron's left the river
with stiff legs and hurried wings.
And now the long slender necks of
flowers bow, dropping their petals.
Sharp points against raspy ground
and wishing trees
Now burst in firey reds - Adamah
before the fall.
Raised from ash, returned
to dust
A crisp prayer whispering
at your heels.