Wednesday, January 27, 2021

I HAVE REACHED / THE AGE 


I have reached
the age when
every line

might be my
last. What do
I want to

say? I want
to say I have
loved this world.



WINTER STORM 


Winter storm
comes in.

Don't think
snow

will cover
sin.

That's what
night's for.

Even crows
know.



Tuesday, January 26, 2021

THE HORIZON, SAYING 


The horizon, saying
high plains, distance,
the boy always

wanting more, mountains
in place of flatness.
This is what makes him,

this longing, the wind
in his face, the sun
always setting farther

out than he has gone,
his knowing there's more
than he has yet got.



HOARFROST 

 
Hoarfrost
on the trees,

angel wings
against the sky.

Someone
loves us,

even now.



Monday, January 25, 2021

WHAT WE CANNOT 


What we cannot see
in the dark night
of the winter storm is

the shape death will take
when it comes for us.



ENGINE 


Engine of stars,
bend of gravity,

raspberry taste
of the Milky Way,

light chasing
light. Isn't this

the mind of God?



Sunday, January 24, 2021

EVENING EASES 


Evening eases itself
into the house so gently

even the cedar
at the cold window

hardly notices.
The old man waits for it,

for darkness, and it comes,
singing.



ORANGE IS THE NEW 


Orange is the new
orange, a long, slow
sundown. Evening

is when everything
evens, when love
equals loss and

it seems worthwhile
to hope again
for another

morning, for
sunrise, orange
as a new orange.



Saturday, January 23, 2021

BREEDLOVE FRETLESS 


There is a darkness
in this thick bass:

I play and play it,
it will not come out.



HOW MUCH 


How much fire,
how much light

in the moment
it all lets go?



Friday, January 22, 2021

HEAVY SNOW 


Heavy snow.
In its stillness,

even the birds
retreat. I know

this light. I know
the way home.



LIKE FEATHERS 


Like feathers,
like fur,

the smoothness --
wind in

the grasses,
what the world

never explains.



Thursday, January 21, 2021

SOME SAY POEMS 


Some say poems are not
the point of the universe
yet the wind sounds along

with our murmured prayers
and the stars swing their light
onto the darkest heart.

There's much I don't know but
the certain, sweet taste of
iron in the morning air.



SUNRISE 


Sunrise.
Sometimes
it is
the sun
kissing
the earth,

sometimes
it is
the earth
kissing
itself.



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