I am watching, from the silent swing The night’s sea birds moving From the beach to the path that leads East through the mountains And I’ll go too Following the highway through the desert, then up And out across the sunrise To the Rockies where I’ll find home And then to the woods where I’ll…

i like the heat on, the fall smell of cinnamon. the air has shrunk with the chill, and i get this sweater, this day. my tepid garden is well-fed and there’s a rising bloom or two. i’m sleepy. the calendar condones a nap. the day evolves with a weak sun and winter’s promise.

Bowing to the recalled memory of given Back keys and unattended Leave taking A well-groomed apartment still Smelling like a girl’s farewell shower And bowing too to committed forgiveness And years of it Or the stopping heart for which she was patient Bowing at last to the rest that comes After it all, to the…

8 parts gin and 1 part tonic, katz at the pizza place, brian frain, granola, 4th, desert, david…always…david, sheila slayton, smokefree nooners, great weed, “it wasn’t me,” boys with nicknames, maloney’s, o’malleys, sobreity fish, fear, loss, baby, adult, bike, tar, black dog, motorcycle death, mt lemon, lost car, lost years, lost baby, wandering hands, mozart…

For a time, there was no music Just a little twilight and sweeping fans and The tiny paper, commanded to wave back with the passing air And to the side, she was dozing wrapped in The city’s sounds, content A little cooler than the day, her head to the side As if sleeping, she couldn’t…

listening to a ballet lesson on a wed toward evening. obviously, they are just learning, positioning tender hips in first, awkwardly stretching arms to fill space, shrugging shoulders in anxiety. it’s in the notes, in how simple the rhthym is and how it drifts, methodically, down the corridor. i can tell there are nervous feet…