the unrooted soul
who knows only wind as home
and land as its cage

gold and yellow yolk leaks
as the shells, brown fragments of armour
tumble into the clear lake

so it must be morning
though the sun sets as we confess resurfacing memories
that break in front of us
like eggs at breakfast

somehow the week is gone
as the church bells ring
and the water moves on

as the birds all sing
to another dawn

of how things used to be,
I want to say
come back

so constant is the lapping shore of change

july
so sweet and shy
passive yet
pass swiftly by

july
a long goodbye
and every year
you make me cry

july
don't even try
cause when you're done
the end is nigh

july
if only I
could hold the tune
of your name
sigh

pelicans remind the forest
of life beyond the wood