Category Archives: New Writing

Conversations (VI) — to the future

With eyes closed I can hear you smile.
Your voice a place I know my way around.

Woodpeckers say goodnight the strangest way
And other birds of winter appear as singular

Leaves of gray, blue, gold on the trees
We can only see through their nakedness.

I drop your eyelids’ map of dreams:
Everything you are I still don’t know

Runs through my veins
Like the flight patterns of birds

that never have to know the route

September 30 [Book of October]

September 30

We know what the year’s worth
Like we know a coin from its size in our palm.

The month’s full moon. A gumball in a gumball machine.
And once in awhile, two slip out at once

Into your hands. When did the fall’s first
Cold night become a harbinger for a life

Shifting seasons? I look out there:
Not a leaf has left me. Still, if what’s ahead

Is more than loose change, you’re going
To have to get a lot closer to keep

Us both warm with what’s coming.

Single-minded

Single-minded

2:33 in the morning.
The owl screeches like a thought’s hinges.

One that keeps opening just a crack
but nobody steps through.

I turn over my pillow, squint into the dark
yard, knowing nothing will clarify.

Whatever you are thinking
I am thinking, too.