Rookie (July 12)

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Best Poem of Chi


All night, insects and pipers sing in the marshes,
and the little wet ponds in the woods.
They sing, as if the night wouldn't be night
without their songs.

Often, I have wondered if they sing for comfort
against the dreadful tentacles that find their way
in the dark molecules of impalpable night;
to attract the opposite sex, to mate, to procreate,
to write against the night; or simply, for the sake of song,
communion, life.

I wonder why humans sleep at night.

I wonder if there are songs too under the ocean floor
at night.

Read the full of Nocturnes

Fog 1

The fog comes as we talk,
settles between us
and hides you from me.

It listens for a while,

then passes on, down
the street without a word,

and without taking along,
its trailing dress.

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