Wednesday, February 26, 2014

0 degrees
moon waning crescent
sun


one
can watch the cycle from outside in
begin
begin
begin
again
each day
a little more finality leaks in

a wild turkey on the steps
sits
she know it's
the wrong time of year
for turkeys
feeds it dry grains
waits

comes along a small flock
hers


Monday, February 24, 2014

her test

she said
my father
as I twisted and dived
from the platform
wasn't there to catch me
and I sank
as his hands surrounded mine
pulled
me
up for air 
twenty days without you
will I count
or lose the days?

so many words now
they surround me

I wish for your quiet
your book in hand
your sleep





concordia

too many


stop


stop


stop

Sunday, February 23, 2014

one step
the sun
two
24 degrees


I write
I fold
I gild
I mourn

one step

filming the beads
seeing things now

two

night

five o'clock
a bark
a whine
a fox whinnies
underneath
blurred moon
how can I balance so much
one hand absent
living without you
a secret pain
that has to be balanced too



Friday, February 21, 2014

winter

snow
ice
death
melt
thaw
a sudden wing
wings
winged
swollen singing
in
bare bushes
brush
hushed midnight
morning blizzard

what storm haven't we seen this winter?

plaid

still have the plaid scarf
what when we met
set
you apart
new not wool
(too poor for that)
on white
four  aubergine
one crimson
one scarlet
four blue
blue blue
like your eyes



Sunday, February 16, 2014

systems and processes

an amalgam

of light and darkness

108 resumed

after you died
bowing made me nauseous
dizzy
I was undone
today
the sun
and all bows
resumed
I felt the bones of you
in my I
and then you left
only this
a graceful realignment

grief

a permafrost
a tundral presence
under
lichen
the migration of this sadness
and stars

found

a note
"Earth is a conductor of acoustical resonance"

weeping
laughter
the conversational voices of the sickroom
the ambulatory in and out of the peripatetic
you
you
you

Saturday, February 15, 2014

142 pounds have become 10.6 pounds of ash
a strong man now blows with the wind
and that is right and good
and as he wished

I am not afraid
that too
as he wished






today

wake with
grief in my mouth
cardinal's song washes it out




yesterday

brought you home
a black box
ash
bits of bone
yellow flowers
Buddha

this small box full of you

Monday, February 10, 2014

each day I wake and sleep
first and last "i love you"
just what i need
those certain words
a lingering touch
an indivisible

you.

after

how to do this?
There is an accumulation of so much love
and suffering

an intensely private loneliness