Two pathetic lines about the moon… (i)
like two fingers of cloud
the moon leaves behind
like two fingers of cloud
the moon leaves behind
Mind is a license plate among leaves:
Mind is a cat sleeping on a bookcase:
Day is what the day is: July breeze sways
Light in the trees: that’s the mind.
Light and shadow leaf out from the same tree
I sit under the roots of the sky grateful for absence
Because I know its shapes make the present
Present itself against this blue sincerity
It is too early for the crickets to give advice
The hornets of time find another corner of wood
As the porch shadow turns east and I sit in my new self
The climbing moon pauses on a mulberry leaf
And later on the neighbor’s roof unnoticed
The pale afternoon ladder has no rungs
But the moon turns slowly until upside
Down it can fall up the sky
In the pause between
here and there the crickets fall
silent with me as
if waiting for a
shadow to pass but it’s deep
night, all shadows of
shadows the quiet
big with all the unsung songs