Lansing Day

You see every bit of me, my morning star.
You pour life to me, no matter what.

I need not ask.
...

This hand which moves and rides some voice is not mine.
I give it over to you, young boy. This is what makes it fly so,
traveling out, tripping along in dance of shape and sound.
...

Carefree in leisure time, one blasé tourist,
almost happy, I once had collected a complicated stone;
after the sunny hours had ended and last opportunity
for keepsakes began.
...

when everything everywhere
whispered in irresistible languages

hey you there
...

On the low-flung periphery of the salt marsh bay,
near the twisted beach, an eddy-

Sun low with the tide going up
...

What we have named Fire Escape
(an ordered, angular tangle of ladders and rail)
had made picture geometries in my west window
well-framed and flat--set foreground and background
...

a tick of your distant heart
and for me the wheels go spinning

golden spires in evening breeze dip
...

Today my walking seemed steady enough.
Considering the truth of flash, it's amazing anything
can stand.
...

Last night I believed I saw three Witch Beings
relent and cast down from their winter moon
Orpheus, free riding.
...

Who would have guessed — when I tilted my heart
toward baby lizard, perched on a colored desert stone,

she'd blink one eye at me, turn to smile, it seemed,
...

EXHALE

There is no end to my exhale;
flowering emptiness filling me, infinitely.
...