left

waxing crescent
birdsong
outside 42,
where 59 is I follow
left a broadside

if a dying
was a mulberry
as a Gaul bound
by building shadow
what's left


a baby's fontanelle
pressed
releases
life after death
left-hendededness
fragile god


of the household
left
another
as number
as sprung forward
as borne ahead

begins

chant for spring in the north

Forsythia

now pollen stung

and hallowed,

sinks

her muddied knees

on ice

as ground

leaks sun-hot sound.


gate, gate

So I bow

gate, gate

as I sow.


Primula

are  parasols.

Yellow pillars

 are daffodils

parasam

'mid para sums

gate, gate

of crocus corms.


gate, gate

Oh body's gate!

gate, gate

A bodhi's borne

gate, gate

on blood gold May

gate, gate

and buttercups.



Bodies, somas,

body's pulsed

solomon's sealed

in svaha's house.