pushing through frozen ground…

if I had the strength

to speak my heart

with the grace of moonlight



we will speak of butterflies

and hurricanes

until we touch

the other side of sunrise


reading Kerouac

in a crowded English bar

my reflection

in this truck-stop night

and jack pines in the moon



into the night

the geese return–

all along, my dreams

were patterning darker skies


this loneliness

the invisible thread

that binds all things

the rain-songs of birds

the birdsong of rain


the undertow

of a gull’s lonely cry

the prow of this moment


in a wild sea of sky


move along now

there’s nothing to see here —

your voice

to the hundred emotions

crowding round my heart



on this path

of broken stones

the wild rose,

its scent and shadow


new moon

in chinagraph

on a glass sky…

from the first tentative kiss

this love, as it was written


turning a page

in her sketchbook

new buds pencilled in…

the tentative plans

of spring



on the water

of this new day…

how the birdsong




in the warm lap

of homecoming

the cat finds her human’s heart

just one letter short of hearth



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