Tag Archives: skylark

Night’s asymptote

asymptote

Night’s asymptote

Cicadas worry the heat from the bark.
Who am I to say where you are tonight

When gloaming’s slow folding unbuckles
Into night? The moon, only twenty minutes

From being a vague figure for lust, is now keen
song on a blade and without warning

Crickets and tree frogs push the black train
Forward. We all hear that same sound.

I know I will never completely reach you
And I know I will never leave you.

What that leaves us is the only word the
Screech owl knows before the circumstance

Of light floods across your lips and the sun
stumbles forward at the height of a man’s mind.

Running

Running

When October’s morning glories trumpet our loss, you run.
When the day’s color concedes itself to leaves, you run.

When the earth rotates against you, you run harder.
When the earth changes its mind about you

and carries you along with it, you run faster.
When the skein of pain tightens across your thighs,

you run more. When our hands tell the time
in the dead hours where memory is sand,

you pull me from the bed and two hundred feet
below the earth by the gorge’s lasting stream we run.

When the moon flows like the reflection
it is, you run across the river of stars and your feet

do not splash against the night. Because the night
is as shallow as a puddle and you are as light

as the reflection of streetlights above you, and as still as you are
in the soul of my sleep, ahead of the curve of memory, you run.

Lines Stolen From a Private Letter Neither Fully Deleted Nor Fully Sent

Lines Stolen From a Private Letter Neither Fully Deleted Nor Fully Sent

Selflessness can consume you, too.
We are birds signaling across a migration

started in different seasons. Insistent longing,
unsigned wind, eternity’s caution tape.

When my own name is a blur
to me, yours will be a bell.