Category: FREE VERSE

Tree spikes cut
into the cold blue
and she flits along
my side return,
she slinks
pinning me down
with her pupils
as I stand
lost for a while.
Then I go forwards
her will
in mine.

How the swamp of fog hangs
over the morning
while the trees have dropped
their foliage.
A preparation:
for what has gone, has gone
for the honesty and validity
of their skeletons.

I’m all in
the fall
of the rain
calm as the pink
of the rose petals
and their sheen
late in the day
before the blood
of the super
flower moon.