blue in midnight blue
all beneath the moon
unfurled a whirl
caught with a breeze
the air is soft and low
and down the tendrils grow
with bloom and petals so
softer than silk
the night is sown
with a thousand tiny seeds
a glitter in the field
and grow and grow
for soon a bud
peeking in the light
a watchful moon
with gentle known
the winds pull
and tug the leaves
lithe they know
without effort
to emerge for reveling
beneath the lights
that shine until
dawn crimson blows

flowers of the sun
remembering every one
the petals in the springtime said
follow the path
as each bud grew
and soon there was a panopy
of hues and grace and space
that was filled with the blooms
of draughts or drops or dew
that washed the flowers
beneath a slivered moon
that in a sense was awed
but still would smile soon
a smile for the dreams it's true
that floated past the evening dew
and landing like the merest motes
upon the sleeping flowers still
in the mid'night silvery
a sky crossed with hosts
that audience that remembrance
the ancient and the day
all were lost amongst
a thousand thousand
petals and the buds
for sleeping then
and waking soon
for a wonderful
all in bloom

the pulsations of beating wings
lifted not for flight
lifted only for light
gleaning off downy soft
born beneath cold stars
dawn is cold
the edge of drifts malleable
in the caress of a vagrant wind
unfounded even ungrounded
a roving over plain and sky
a roving for winds never die
but twist and so they dash and go
a turn a wisp a blow
then they are away
gone but for the trace
of the drifting snow

chill my bones
westlin
from frost i'd fly
but downy flakes settling
faster than empires
more cold
each drift
each icicle drawn
daggers of a season
pull the coat
pull the gloves
pull warmth in close
and run for the open door
with a fiery hearth
and a magic star

pour as the flowing
even as a knowing
each drop divine
from fantastic vines
the soaked the summer sun
as rays that played
for days and days
until the ripe bursting grape
was tweaked betwixt fingers
that gently tugged
and with a uh
the grape was free in a descent
to land into the woven basket
amongst so many kin
not a one but so many
a cascade of fruit
timely tamed found in wild
then there was the same
the wild in a oaken vat
tromped by toes and heels
or ankles smash
a piston a whirling gig
up and down the grape is trod
and red and deep and red complete
the juice is managed out
the vat is full
the feet must rest
there are more steps before the fact
that the grape is aged
and laid to sleep
in a glass bottle then
until with a pop and oh
it slips into a a crystal glass

i would have the quiet
places where the fortunate
in reveling tell
secrets flowing
spoke and wheel
do tell
i would have
the world and then some
an audience
in the forest of the night
torches lit
we are orators
tragedians
life is a comedy
comedians those who think
a half filled cup
spilt then mop it up

cold enough
alright
already
cold enough
that wind
quiet anticipate
where it blows
cold batten down
colder then you know
dark heels on pavements
steps unto the alcove
hanging dim no lights
cold enough
alright already
reaching silver key
engine purrs
dash for inside hide
waiting in the warmth
waiting before to go
evening slides around
the evening prepares to go
i am out a wandering
even now i must know
that home is waiting
where i rest my head
lights shine welcome
and i am home

thank you

cold is the night
when comfort shuns
and biting winds blow
biting cold so
that shelter is taken
taken where ever you go
glass windows
glass door
inside a warmth and glow
i will have the pastry then
i will have some coffee
and i will compose my soul
in the waning night

war
the kindred bleed
phosphorescent light
their pores
miniature supernova
radiating
spectrums visible
invisible
their struggle
continent wide
shakes the foundation
of plates tectonic
dull gravelly
dragging consonants out
as if they were dry
lodged teeth
that were designated
vacant empty

nobodies in a way
the lost semblance
of dreams and in between
the sets and yet
anytime i dream
is another world
seems to me in dreams
the way we were
ways we are
on hold for dreams
that appear and drift
upon hidden breaths
that appeared
on the crisp dawn
a season drifting on
drifts that hide
the sleeping rose
sleeps for spring
replenishing dew

shiny is the talisman
guarded sure
left in the open
where the wild was
and the free
and no one ever saw
that you were there
all the while
held close
in that hidden part
that is so hard to free
silent and only
the center that makes one whole
drifting
no tethers caught
just iridescence
and the empty spots
no one ever saw

tethers
the once of night
the silent right
the other sight
a welcome day becomes
a welcome night
and crossed with stars
that counting
over and over
amongst strange constellations
we found a single one
and we called it home

curious that you wrote
only once with ink
now every word
flows
imbued
drenched in the sweetness
alluring and rich
nourishing
though plentiful
eternity

haunts locale
the wiss of the speeding wheel
slishing past
windows paint and chrome
the sound of welcome
the sound of home
busy as you want to
or stop in the streetlight cast
at 2am far
and wonder if there is another star
glints and true
they are past horizon
way overdue
and winking gleeful
they assume that throne
the past is starried
a star from home

knocking ghosts
rattles in the night
lights upon
the winding road
wet with late evening rain
winding so winding again
bitter cold still far away
cold as here or cold may stay
the shadows upon path
where walking dark in the past
barely lit barely seen
glaces upon a spectral sheen
the pulsing throb of rotating blades
illusory transitory upon memory
up late for ending week
finding sudden sleep

written for
for it is
the movement of time
the stumble of planets
olympian cold
seasons gone
for the blowing wind
the chasing wind
the edge of knife
cold against the skin
this is utterance
this is the cosmic dance
where time is left
in ruts and ways
the slipped foot trips
and sprawling plays
to lighter fare to other ways
the for past passed
past the gaze
just a winding dune
dusty then
dune has become alps
in surmounted
the tracking tread
busted drive
left blips and trace
respondent to cursory flags
rewriting the core
rerouting paths
to get moving again
out of the mire
of endless dust

breath to vitalize
drawn in drawn down
replenish
replace
the spent and left
oh suddenness
vibrancy buoyancy
the life revealed
a breath that still
fills the frame
and exhales
the day is new
the sun is too
and this is the jagged edge
world with mist
an emptiness
except for the call
of wild cats

noble indeed
if even there is a need
still the searching
the rustles of footsteps
upon the autumn floor
the lone trees barren
on the edge of the field
carpeted with the sense of the world
fitting and fitted
a noisome spangle
behold the empty sleeves
a glum silence hung
stuffed with golden straw
threads for eyes that stared
empty and alone
these eyes glassed
magnified even amplified
the hollow deep inside
and dusk arrives
with a jangle and a dance
moon up the boughs gentle see
hold the earth and sky
life supreme
the worlds at ease
time enough
time to see

i was going to see appaloosa... haven't been to the theatre in a bit.