park bench
the blind man’s glasses
reflect the sunlight
Month: February 2010
And don’t snow geese and immortality take their shadows from the sea
between
the falling snow
raven
the light in the back
of the flower shop
winter moon
winter dusk
when dad
would phone
burnt toast
no matter what I do
the rain seeps in
snow all night
the silence
thickens
washing up
she looks at the backyard pine
its old nest
winter mist
the scarecrow’s heart
a nesting sparrow
the first brush-stroke
black
the sound of thunder
desert morning
a coyote licks ice
on the tumbleweed
Rain overnight —
the mist on Mynyddislwyn
melts almost as quickly
as it takes me
to write about it.
a spot of light
from the hand mirror
travels up and down her arm
shadow patterns
her neck
elevator silence
our shadows
cross on the floor
deep snow —
I put my feet
in your footsteps
so like bones
the bone-white branches
of the birch tree
casino lights
your bad luck ringing
all their bells
cold morning
touching my breasts
remembering
traffic jam —
from everywhere the snow
heading nowhere