Flying Fingers (Ode to the Guitarist)
Soft sounds written in naked sky,
the alphabets of beetles, tiger moths, and
...
Perfection
Every oak will lose a leaf to the wind.
Every star-thistle has a thorn.
...
Ocean Depths
This tide from the past reappears
in the moment, and the Ocean
...
Dead Fish Laughing
Post Op. fried-egg and sliced-ham
...
Enigmatic: Dead Polar Bear
I.) The polar-bear is black beneath transparent hair,
each blueberry conceals a pentagon on its bottom,
...
A Fawn in Days
The fawn is dead upon the emerald
field where milky narcissus bloom
...
Mother's Dark House (A Dirge)
Smooth and white as a neatly quilted bed,
Sheeted silence glistened sheer and pristine;
...
Let's Enjoy the Journey:
You stopped me on the tracks;
I slipped on the butter —
...
What's Left Behind
All the trips have been made
between the house
...
At The Destination:
All the blue sky above the oaks
is too much to hold without wonder.
...