September

The sun is low and electrifies
entanglements woven
between branches holding
the fruits of roses filling
an expanse
I choose to count on.

Like the monthly silver
dollar suspended
by threads of floating ice.

Nights Of July

Deep into
The nights of July
I keep at my window
And watch
Clouds gathering or passing
And I think how small
And stuck I feel
Until the stars intervene
And show me in their gaze
That no one gets forgotten
Or left behind

Stand Again

After Beltane
In days meant
For visions
For inspiration
I cannot tire
Of walking through sea foam
Or the devil’s porridge
That thrives
On troubled ground
Where I keep spotting bumblebees
And wonder if they’ll make it
Like so many dreams
With this year’s frogs
Arriving at dawn

In a clearing of compassion
I’m blinded
By a band of pewter
Around a cloud
Backlit by the sun
And I know I can’t
Be pulled down
With the buddleia cones
In the rain so
I let the tree lady
Teach me how
To stand again
Crush stones
Blunt thorns
How and when they come
And I let her
Wash my bones
Clean in a milk lit pond
Holding up
May’s moon of flowers