The smoke-tainted wind
brushes graceful fingers
through skeletons of leaves,
discussing the night in whispers
...
January's frozen breath
chilled February's dreams.
March's steady thaw
soothed April's little fears.
...
Midnight‚
My forest of dreams...
Movement all around
But only in sound,
...
When the poet set out to capture poems,
building cages of paper and ink,
shouted she in vain at reluctant words
to come lay down within them.
...
ashes and snow
drifting in soft and low,
falling ever so end over end
drawn over the foreground,
...
Flitting amid the bright lanterns
of stars in a winedark sky
is a way to live and be
for backyard moths and I —
...
She stands behind me
in everything that I do;
while I live worlds away
she waits for me to come back to her.
...
taking the victory, let none escape
ensuring no vengeance takes shape
through murder, pillage and rape
...
Fear has strength. It grips,
squeezing away the breath of dreams,
crushing the faith of heroes down in
the depths of memory's heart.
...
Raisin
Wrinkled morsel
Formerly plump round grape
Sun-dried, shriveled, concentrated
...