Monday, July 17, 2017

183. Coro a bocca chiusa












All their mouths are
closed
to me:

final wisps of daylight
stroke their weary
eyes -
mother to son, to
daughter -

now is their sleeping
time;
halls long
devoid of footsteps
in their echoing
bellies

closed
to me:
wandering down their
silent paths -
birds muttering in the
dying
day -

closed to me -
a language only
cedars
know:
rustling in the twilit air:
rustling lullabies to passersby
who believe themselves
awake -

Thursday, June 22, 2017

182. Squirrel Nest

Scurrying across the plushy cotton,
sole observer of the field:
tiny tracks the only small reminder,
almost undetectable -

Darting up the gnarly bark -
swift & sure &
quick as night though just as dark -
sylvan ninja

Up the lattice now -
Branches sway,
Fingers in the wind;
Ropes of wood

Little nest of rotting leaves and soot:
how imperfect!
Slip you in your qui-ver-ing burrow -
quick as ever!

You in yours and I in mine;
Shi-ver-ing despite your fur?
Nestled snug within your home -
all is just irrelevant!

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

181. Torontonian Months

Sushi without
fish and
water without
ice!

Lessons back-to-
back and lessons just
alone;

Sweat and smiles and
suitcases and
backpacks -

birthdays and
cards and
Australia and
San
Francisco -

restaurants and
catching
up:

new friends and
old ones -
new buildings and
old -

smoke and homeless and
pizza and
LV:
these are the sights and sounds and
smells!