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!

Monday, April 24, 2017

180. Part-Time Torontonian

i am
yet a
stranger,
tourist -
             visitor!

without your hand in mine,
it is all still magic and
miracle to
me!

the bustle, the
people, the
music, and
the
food!

But how it was nicest,
your hand in mine -

The fresh
breeze
in the October, bright-lit
city -

Breath entangled in
eager bliss!!