Leslie Philibert Poems

Working the wet earth,
bonded by standing water, as expected
I do not find ghosts,
but a layer of small stones and black roots.
...

A forest without moonlight
A moon with no light
If there would be moonlight
there would be the shapes of trees.
...

How can I
go forward to Spring
when you left me
in Winter?
...

A carriage full of dried moths, faces sour with old leather,
a midnight softness, perhaps a glass in water, slowly,

and you speak of love in the conjunctive,
...

Exactly the right colour, the perfect amount of milk
one of Mum`s specials, as we gathered round the table
in the kitchen and put the pictures together,
the blue lights and the friendly doctor, who asked
...

Two rooms at night
One light, one dark
But both full of stars
...

as wood is grey and bricks red dust
fallen beams church each space
as pigeons dance under slate
...

The snow in the courtyard brings
a new shape each day; no sense in the melting,
but I have not attended to this.
A girl waiting at a station, with smiles.
...

The Alps make me embryonic,
the King of sleep, the wind
a sea inside my ears;
...

strong breezes in a familiar house,
corridors full of leaves
torn curtains across broken windows,

mirror face.
...