In the silence, 

of a winter moon

we wrap up in whispers

unpack an old quilt

patchworked with a scent

of old people


Cloud Type

Over a sunken canoe

pass cumulus clouds


Hastening winds

chase their shadows

up the hills


So many meanings

in and out of sunlight


A pair of swallows

tear up

the sky

Wear the weather

I like the way you wear the weather

Raining down the intersection

Between want and wonder.

If I killed all the clocks could I keep you?

Who would have thought, such long and lonely roads

Between your eyes and skull.


You should never hasten

To unfurl your umbrella

Under the first drops of rain,

And the summer rays of heat.

With open arms feel it-

Heaven’s small offerings,

Breaking the old season.