Of Bark and Bone

i am wary of your body.
sharp knees the elbows
a branch whipping out,
trunk so guarded
by sinewed limbs,
your hands the thorny twigs
the angles uncompromising.
yet within your ribcage,
between the stubborn strips
of bark and bone,
is a little bird's nest,
nestled, in a
hollow knot.

Take Two

sometimes i make mistakes.
i linger past
the end scene.
i vary from the script,
mixing words and intent
oil and water
on a wound.
sometimes i don't speak
at all,
but simply wait,
cameras flashing,
blindly
looking into the lenses,
as if they would be
like your eyes,
glazed with mercy,
blinking with love.

Five Years' Time

In five years' time,
You may not say my name,
Nor hold its sound,
Sweet between your lips.
In five years' time,
Your hands may fold,
In silent prayer,
Around another woman's
Lovelined palm.
But today,
You are here,
And your eyes, like two
Doves,
Send me sweet lines
Of peace,
The name of God,
As the breath before
A kiss.

In the Night

magic i want to make with you
all the ticks of my watch
i want to chip away
in your presence
are all for naught
for in the night
you slink away
pacing in the kitchen
glass of milk in your hand
hour glass thuds of sand
in your head

Sunflower Sentinels

Sunflower sentinels,
Which stood so tall
Over summer bounty,
Now droop,
Seeds falling
From their bronzed heads.
No longer need at their posts,
They wane.
Yet let them
Fear not:
The fruit they so
Carefully guarded
During summer's
Young-blooded haze
Will last the winter,
And in the spring,
New shoots will
Sprout, kicking and
Screaming fresh life
For them to tend,
Their helios manes
Proud and swaying.

November Thunder

november thunder
exhaling warm air
into frosted clouds
one last
blood-filled kick
before the pallid
silence
in the gathering dark
the sky reached down
and stole a
street lamp
to be its
moon

Red Fleece Jacket

sometimes your shoulder
is the only thing
holding up my head
wet in little tear-shaped spots
your red fleece jacket is as
warm to me
as your sweaty palms
soft and strong
holding me
so close